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COPYRIGHT DEPOSIT. 



THE BOYS' BOOK OF BATTLES 



THE DEFENSE OF CIIAMPIGNY 



It 

THE BOYS' 
BOOK OF BATTLES 



WITH ILLUSTRATIONS 
FROM FAMOUS PAINTINGS 




BOSTON AND NEW YORK 

HOUGHTON MIFFLIN COMPANY 

<^l)t Bitjetijitie ptt0 «JEambritioe 

1914 



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COPYRIGHT, 1914, BY HOUGHTON MIFFLIN COMPANY 
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED 

Published October iqi4 



NOV -2 1914 

^GI,A38S19i 



PREFACE 

The contents of "The Boys' Book of Battles" have been 
chosen with two requirements in mind: first, that each 
selection should be of real interest in itself ; second, that 
the selections, taken together, should give a graphic 
picture of the development of warfare from the earliest 
times to the present day. In view of these requirements 
many battles have been included that have but little 
historical importance, but that are described in an 
intensely thrilling way or that are illustrative of inter- 
esting phases of warfare. 

The selections have been taken, not only from books 
of history, but from fiction, poetry, and biography as 
well. This broad treatment is more than justified by 
the increased interest and value of the selections avail- 
able. It would be difficult, for example, to find a more 
vivid or illuminating picture of all phases of a modern 
battle than in "The Fight before Sedan" which is taken 
from a novel, while the lilt of the verses in "The Battle 
of Naseby" drives home the fighting spirit of the 
Puritans as no prose description could. 

Thanks are due to the following pubHshers for gener- 
ously permitting the use of the copyrighted material 
specified below : — 

G. P. Putnam's Sons: 
The Victory of the Khita. From "Notes from the 
Nile," by H. D. Rawnsley. 



PREFACE 

A. C. McClurg & Company. 

The Storming of the Sky-City. From "The Spanish 
Pioneers," by Charles F. Lummis. 
Harper & Brothers. 

The Battle of the Pyramids, and The Crossing of the 
Beresina River. From "The History of Napoleon 
Bonaparte," by John S. C. Abbott. 
The Macmillan Company : 

The Fight before Sedan. From "The Downfall," by 
Emile Zola. 



CONTENTS 

The Victory over the Khita Pen-ta-ur 3 

The Battle of Marathon E. S. Creasy 12 

The Lemnian: A Story of Thermopyl^ . . John Buchan 23 

The Siege of Plat^a Thucydides 45 

How Hannibal made his Way to Italy Livy 57 

Julius C^sar in Gaul T. Rice Holmes 73 

A Viking Sea- Fight From the Ueimskringla 84 

The Last Danish Invasion .... Edward Bulwer-Lylton 100 

The Battle of Hastings Robert. Wace 114 

The Battle of Cr£cy Sir John Froissart 128 

The Death of Winkelried Walter Thornbury 134 

The Ballad of Agincouht ...... Michael Drayton 139 

The Battle of Bos worth Field .... Owen Rhoscomyl 144 

On the Field of Flodden Sir Walter Scott 152 

The Siege of Leyden John Loihrop Motley 157 

The Battle of Ivry .... Thomas Bahington Macaulay 169 
The Revenge: A Ballad of the Fleet 

Alfred, Lord Tennyson 173 

The Storming of the Sky-City . . . Charles F. Lummis 180 
GusTAVUS Adolphus at Lutzen 

Johann Christoph Friedrich von Schiller 196 

The Battle of Naseby . . . Thomas Babington Macaulay 206 
Grandmother's Story of Bunker Hill Battle 

Oliver Wendell Holmes 211 
The Fight between the Serapis and the Bon Homme 

Richard Joel Tyler Headley 221 

In the Revolt of the Vendee Victor Hugo 230 

The Battle of the Pyramids .... John S. C. Abbott 240 

Hohenlinden Thomas Campbell 254 

Trafalgar William C. Bennett 256 

The Crossing of the Beresina River . John S. C. Abbott 261 

vii 



CONTENTS 

Waterloo Douglas Brooke Wheelton Sladen 267 

Waterloo Victor Hugo 271 

The Charge of the Light Brigade . Alfred, Lord Tennyson 291 

Taken Prisoner at Shiloh Henry M. Stanley 294 

A Drummer Boy at Gettysburg . . . Harry M. KieJJer 309 

Farragut W. T. Meredith 326 

The Fight before Sedan Emile Zola 329 

The Indian Story OF Custer's Last Yicut . James McLaughlin 353 

A Modern Battlefield Julian Ralph 370 

Fighting in Darkest Africa Giistav Frensscn 377 

The Attack upon Port Arthur Lieutenant Tadayoshl Sakurai 38 7 

The Siege of Adrianople Philip Gihbs 393 

A Memorable Retreat Sir John French 398 

Fighting in Mid-Air Lieutenant Werner 407 



ILLUSTRATIONS 

The Defense of Champigny . Jean Baptiste ^ouard Detaille 

Frontispiece v^ 

Conquests of Rameses II . . . Egyptian W all-Painting lo 

Hannibal crossing the Rhone .... Henry Paul Motte 60 y 

Morning of the Battle of Agincourt . . Sir John Gilbert 140 ,, 

Bonaparte before the Sphinx .... Jean Lion Gerdme 242 

Trafalgar W.C. Stanfield 258 

Passage of the Beresina . . . . J. H. Van Papendrecht 264 

"Scotlantj Forever!" . . Elizabeth Thompson {Lady Butler) 270 

Evening of the Battle of Waterloo . . . Ernest Crofts 288 
The Return of the Light Brigade 

Elizabeth Thompson {Lady Butler) 292 

Gettysburg Fifty Years After . . . From a Photograph 324 

An August Morning with Fareagut . . .W. H. Overend 328 
Geriian Wounded in the Gallery of Mirrors, Versailles 

Victor Bachereau Rcverchon 352 

The Soldier's Dream . . . Jean Baptiste &douard Detaille 406 



THE BOYS' BOOK OF BATTLES 



THE VICTORY OVER THE KHITA 

BY PEN-TA-UR, 1326 B.C. PUT INTO METER BY 
HARDWICKE D. RAWNSLEY 

[By order of Rameses, this poem was inscribed upon the 
walls of five temples, one of which was at Karnak. On these 
walls were also engraved enormous illustrations of the scenes 
of the poem, commemorating especially the exploits of the 
king. (See illustration at page 10.) 

The Editor.] 

Then the king of Elhita-land, 

With his warriors made a stand, 

But he durst not risk his hand 

In battle with our Pharaoh; 

So his chariots drew away, 

Unnumbered as the sand, 

And they stood, three men of war 

On each car; 

And gathered all in force 

Was the flower of his army, for the fight in full array, 

But advance, he did not dare, 

Foot or horse. 

So in ambush there they lay. 

Northwest of Kadesh town; 

And while these were in their lair. 

Others went forth south of Kadesh, on our midst, their 

charge was thrown 
With such weight, our men went down. 



THE BOYS' BOOK OF BATTLES 

For they took us unaware, 

And the legion of Pra-Hormakhu gave way. 

But at the western side 

Of Arunatha's tide, 

Near the city's northern wall, our Pharaoh had his 

place. 
And they came unto the king. 
And they told him our disgrace; 

Then Rameses uprose, like his father,^ Month, in might, 
All his weapons took in hand, 
And his armor did he don. 
Just Uke Baal, fit for fight; 

And the noble pair of horses that carried Pharaoh on, 
Lo! "Victory of Thebes" was their name. 
And from out the royal stables of great Miamun they 

came. 

Then the king he lashed each horse, 
And they quickened up their course. 
And he dashed into the middle of the hostile, Hittite 

host. 
All alone, none other with him, for he counted not the 

cost. 
Then he looked behind, and found 
That the foe were all around. 

Two thousand and five hundred of their chariots of war; 
And the flower of the Hittites, and their helpers, in a 

ring — 
Men of Masu, Keshkesh, Pidasa, Malunna, Arathu, 

1 Month, or Mentu, as one of the aspects of the sun-god Ra, was 
worshiped at Thebes. 



THE VICTORY OVER THE KHITA 

Qazauadana, Kadesh, Akerith, Leka and Khilibu — 

Cut off the way behind, 

Retreat he could not find; 

There were three men on each car, 

And they gathered all together, and closed upon the 

king. 
"Yea, and not one of my princes, of my chief men and 

my great. 
Was with me, not a captain, not a knight; 
For my warriors and chariots had left me to my fate, 
Not one was there to take his part in fight." 

Then spake Pharaoh, and he cried: "Father Ammon, 
where art thou? 

Shall a sire forget his son? 

Is there aught without thy knowledge I have done? 

From the judgments of thy mouth when have I gone? 

Have I e'er transgressed thy word? 

Disobeyed, or broke a vow? 

Is it right, who rules in Egypt, Egypt's lord. 

Should e'er before the foreign peoples bow. 

Or own their rod? 

Whate'er may be the mind of this Hittite herdsman- 
horde, 

Sure Ammon ^ should stand higher than the wretch who 
knows no God? 

Father Ammon, is it nought 

That to thee I dedicated noble monuments, and filled 

Thy temples with the prisoners of war? 

That for thee a thousand years shall stand the shrines 
I dared to build? 
1 The king, probably, is here identifying himself with Ammon. 

5 



THE BOYS' BOOK OF BATTLES 

That to thee my palace-substance I have brought, 

That tribute unto thee from afar 

A whole land comes to pay, 

That to thee ten thousand oxen for sacrifice I fell. 

And burn upon thine altars the sweetest woods that 

smell; 
That all thy heart required, my hand did ne'er gainsay? 
I have built for thee tall gates and wondrous works, 

beside the Nile, 
I have raised thee mast on mast, 
For eternity to last, 
From Elephantin's isle 
The obelisks for thee I have conveyed. 
It is I who brought alone 
The everlasting stone. 
It is I who sent for thee, 
The ships upon the sea. 

To pour into thy coffers the wealth of foreign trade; 
Is it told that such a thing 
By any other king. 
At any other time, was done at all? 
Let the wretch be put to shame 
Who refuses thy commands, 
But honor to his name 
Who to Ammon lifts his hands. 
To the full of my endeavor. 
With a willing heart forever, 
I have acted unto thee, 
And to thee, great God, I call; 
For behold ! now, Ammon, I, 
In the midst of many peoples, all unknown, 
Unnumbered as the sand, 

6 



THE VICTORY OVER THE KHITA 

Here I stand, 

All alone; 

There is no one at my side, 

My warriors and chariots afeared, 

Have deserted me, none heard 

My voice, when to the cravens I, their king, for succor, 

cried. 
But I find that Ammon's grace 
Is better far to me 
Than a million fighting men and ten thousand chariots 

be. 
Yea, better than ten thousand, be they brother, be they 

son. 
When with hearts that beat like one. 
Together for to help me they are gathered in one place. 
The might of men is nothing, it is Ammon who is lord, 
What has happened here to me is according to thy 

word. 
And I will not now trangress thy command; 
But alone, as here I stand. 
To thee my cry I send, 
Unto earth's extremest end. 
Saying, 'Help me, father Ammon, against the Hittite 

horde.' " 

Then my voice it found an echo in Hermonthis' temple- 
hall, 
Ammon heard it, and he came unto my call; 
And for joy I gave a shout, 
From behind, his voice cried out, 
"I have hastened to thee, Ramses Miamun, 
Behold 1 1 stand with thee, 

7 



THE BOYS' BOOK OF BATTLES 

Behold ! 't is I am he, 

Own father thine, the great god Ra, the sun. 

Lo ! mine hand with thine shall fight, 

And mine arm is strong above 

The hundreds of ten thousands, who against thee do 

unite. 
Of victory am I lord, and the brave heart do I love, 
I have found in thee a spirit that is right, 
And my soul it doth rejoice in thy valor and thy might." 

Then all this came to pass, I was changed in my heart 

Like Monthu, god of war, was I made, 

With my left hand hurled the dart, 

With my right I swung the blade. 

Fierce as Baal in his time, before their sight. 

Two thousand and five hundred pairs of horses were 

around. 
And I flew into the middle of their ring. 
By my horse-hoofs they were dashed all in pieces to the 

ground. 
None raised his hand in fight. 
For the courage in their breasts had sunken quite; 
And their limbs were loosed for fear, 
And they could not hurl the dart, 
And they had not any heart 
To use the spear; 
And I cast them to the water, 
Just as crocodiles fall in from the bank, 
So they sank. 

And they tumbled on their faces, one by one. 
At my pleasure I made slaughter, 
So that none 

8 



THE VICTORY OVER THE KHITA 

E'er had time to look behind, or backward fled; 

Where he fell, did each one lay 

On that day. 

From the dust none ever lifted up his head. 

Then the wretched king of Khita, he stood still, 

With his warriors and his chariots all about him in a ring, 

Just to gaze upon the valor of our king 

In the fray. 

And the king was all alone, 

Of his men and chariots none 

To help him; but the Hittite of his gazing soon had fill, 

For he turned his face in flight, and sped away. 

Then his princes forth he sent, 

To battle with our lord. 

Well equipped with bow and sword 

And all goodly armament. 

Chiefs of Leka, Masa, Kings of Malunna, Arathu, 

Qar-qa-mash, of the Dardani, of Keshkesh, Khilibu. 

And the brothers of the king were all gathered in one 

place, 
Two thousand and five hundred pairs of horse — 
And they came right on in force, 
The fury of their faces to the flaming of my face. 

Then, like Monthu in his might, 
I rushed on them apace. 
And I let them taste my hand '■■ 
In a twinkling moment's space. 
Then cried one unto his mate, 
"This is no man, this is he, 
This is Suteck, god of hate, 

9 



THE BOYS' BOOK OF BATTLES 

With Baal in his blood; 

Let us hasten, let us flee, 

Let us save our souls from death. 

Let us take to heel and try our lungs and breath." 

And before the king's attack, 

Hands fell, and Umbs were slack, 

They could neither aim the bow, nor thrust the spear, 

But just looked at him who came 

Charging on them, hke a flame. 

And the King was as a griffin in the rear. 

(Behold thus speaks the Pharaoh, let all know), 

"I struck them down, and there escaped me none. 

Then I lifted up my voice, and I spake. 

Ho ! my warriors, charioteers, 

Away with craven fears, 

Halt, stand, and courage take. 

Behold I am alone, 

Yet Ammon is my helper, and his hand is with me now." 

When my Menna, charioteer, beheld in his dismay, 
How the horses swarmed aroimd us, lo ! his courage fled 

away. 
And terror and affright 
Took possession of him quite; 
And straightway he cried out to me, and said, 
''Gracious lord and bravest king, savior-guard 
Of Egypt in the battle, be our ward ; 
Behold we stand alone, in the hostile Hittite ring, 
Save for us the breath of life, 
Give deliverance from the strife, 
Oh ! protect us, Ramses Miamun ! Oh ! save us, mighty 

King!" 

10 



CONQUESTS OF RAMESES II 



THE VICTORY OVER THE KHITA 

Then the King spake to his squire, "Halt! take courage, 

charioteer, 
As a sparrow-hawk swoops down upon his prey, 
So I swoop upon the foe, and I will slay, 
I will hew them into pieces, I will dash them into dust; 
Have no fear, 

Cast such evil thought away, 
These godless men are wretches that in Ammon put no 

trust." 
Then the king, he hurried forward, on the Hittite host he 

flew, 
"For the sixth time that I charged them," says the king 

— and listen well, 
"Like Baal in his strength, on their rearward, lo! I fell, 
And I killed them, none escaped me, and I slew, and 

slew, and slew." 



THE BATTLE OF MARATHON 

1490 B.C.] 
BY E. S. CREASY 

[In 490 B.C., the Persians set out to conquer Greece. They 
landed at Marathon, and here was fought the battle which 
prevented the forces of Asia from sweeping over all Europe. 

The Editor] 

MiLTiADES felt no hesitation as to the course which the 
Athenian army ought to pursue ; and earnestly did he 
press his opinion on his brother-generals. Practically ac- 
quainted with the organization of the Persian armies, 
Miltiades felt convinced of the superiority of the Greek 
troops, if properly handled ; he saw with the military eye 
of a great general the advantage which the position of 
the forces gave him for a sudden attack, and as a pro- 
found politician he felt the perils of remaining inactive, 
and of giving treachery time to ruin the Athenian cause. 

One officer in the council of war had not yet voted. 
This was Callimachus the war-ruler. The votes of the 
generals were five and five, so that the voice of Callim- 
achus, would be decisive. 

On that vote, in all human probability, the destiny of 
all the nations of the world depended. Miltiades turned 
to him, and in simple soldierly eloquence, the substance 
of which we may read faithfully reported in Herodotus, 
who had conversed with the veterans of Marathon, the 
great Athenian thus adjured his countryman to vote 
for giving battle. 

12 



THE BATTLE OF MARATHON 

"It now rests with you, Callimachus, either to enslave 
Athens, or, by assuring her freedom, to win yourself 
an immortality of fame, such as not even Harmodius 
and Aristogiton have acquired; for never, since the 
Athenians were a people, were they in such danger as 
they are in at this moment. If they bow the knee to 
these Medes, they are to be given up to Hippias, and you 
know what they then will have to suffer. But if Athens 
comes victorious out of this contest, she has it in her 
to become the first city of Greece, Your vote is to decide 
whether we are to join battle or not. If we do not bring 
on a battle presently, some factious intrigue will disunite 
the Athenians, and the city will be betrayed to the 
Medes. But if we fight, before there is anything rotten 
in the state of Athens, I believe that, provided the gods 
will give fair play and no favor, we are able to get the 
best of it in an engagement." 

The vote of the brave war-ruler was gained, the coun- 
cil determined to give battle; and such was the ascend- 
ancy and acknowledged military eminence of Miltiades, 
that his brother-generals one and all gave up their days 
of command to him, and cheerfully acted under his or- 
ders. Fearful, however, of creating any jealousy, and 
of so failing to obtain the vigorous cooperation of all 
parts of his small army, Miltiades waited till the day 
when the chief command would have come round to him 
in regular rotation before he led the troops against the 
enemy. 

The inaction of the Asiatic commanders during this 
interval appears strange at first sight; but Hippias was 
with them, and they and he were aware of their chance 
of a bloodless conquest through the machinations of his 

13 



THE BOYS' BOOK OF BATTLES 

partisans among the Athenians. The nature of the 
ground also explains in many points the tactics of the 
opposite generals before the battle, as well as the opera- 
tions of the troops during the engagement. 

The plain of Marathon, which is about twenty- two 
miles distant from Athens, lies along the bay of the same 
name on the northeastern coast of Attica. The plain is 
nearly in the form of a crescent, and about six miles 
in length. It is about two miles broad in the center, 
where the space between the mountains and the sea is 
greatest, but it narrows toward either extremity, the 
mountains coming close down to the water at the horns 
of the bay. There is a valley trending inward from the 
middle of the plain, and a ravine comes down to it to 
the' southward. Elsewhere it is closely girt round on 
the land side by rugged limestone mountains, which are 
thickly studded with pines, olive trees, and cedars, and 
overgrown with the myrtle, arbutus, and the other low 
odoriferous shrubs that everywhere perfume the Attic 
air. The level of the ground is now varied by the mound 
raised over those who fell in the battle, but it was an 
unbroken plain when the Persians encamped on it. 
There are marshes at each end, which are dry in spring 
and summer and then offer no obstruction to the horse- 
man, but are commonly flooded with rain and so ren- 
dered impracticable for cavalry in the autumn, the time 
of year at which the action took place. 

The Greeks, lying encamped on the mountains, could 
watch every movement of the Persians on the plain 
below, while they were enabled completely to mask 
their own. Miltiades also had, from his position, the 
power of giving battle whenever he pleased, or of de- 

14 



THE BATTLE OF MARATHON 

laying it at his discretion, unless Datis were to attempt 
the perilous operation of storming the heights. 

Miltiades, on the afternoon of a September day, 
490 B.C., gave the word for the Athenian army to pre- 
pare for battle. There were many local associations con- 
nected with those mountain heights which were calcu- 
lated powerfully to excite the spirits of the men, and of 
which the commanders well knew how to avail them- 
selves in their exhortations to their troops before the 
encounter. Marathon itself was a region sacred to Her- 
cules. Close to them was the fountain of Macaria, who 
had in days of yore devoted herself to death for the lib- 
erty of her people. The very plain on which they were 
to fight was the scene of the exploits of their national 
hero, Theseus; and there, too, as old legends told, the 
Athenians and the HeracHdse had routed the invader, 
Eurystheus. These traditions were not mere cloudy 
myths or idle fictions, but matters of implicit earnest 
faith to the men of that day, and many a fervent prayer 
arose from the Athenian ranks to the heroic spirits who, 
while on earth, had striven and suffered on that very 
spot, and who were beheved to be now heavenly powers, 
looking down with interest on their still beloved country, 
and capable of interposing with superhuman aid in its 
behalf. 

According to old national custom, the warriors of each 
tribe were arrayed together; neighbor thus fighting by 
the side of neighbor, friend by friend, and the spirit of 
emulation and the consciousness of responsibility excited 
to the very utmost. The war-ruler, Callimachus, had 
the leading of the right wing; the Plateaus formed the 
extreme left; andThemistocles and Aristides commanded 

IS 



THE BOYS' BOOK OF BATTLES 

the center. The line consisted of the heavy armed spear- 
men only; for the Greeks (until the time of Iphicrates) 
took little or no account of light-armed soldiers in a 
pitched battle, using them only in skirmishes, or for the 
pursuit of a defeated enemy. The panoply of the regu- 
lar infantry consisted of a long spear, of a shield, helmet, 
breast-plate, greaves, and short sword. Thus equipped, 
they usually advanced slowly and steadily into action 
in a uniform phalanx of about eight spears deep. But 
the military genius of Miltiades led him to deviate on 
this occasion from the commonplace tactics of his 
countrymen. It was essential for him to extend his line 
so as to cover all the practicable ground, and to secure 
himself from being outflanked and charged in the rear 
by the Persian horse. This extension involved the weak- 
ening of his line. Instead of a uniform reduction of its 
strength, he determined on detaching principally from 
his center, which, from the nature of the ground, would 
have the best opportunities for rallying, if broken; and 
on strengthening his wings so as to insure advantage 
at those points; and he trusted to his own skill and to 
his soldiers' discipline for the improvement of that ad- 
vantage into decisive victory. 

In this order, and availing himself probably of the 
inequalities of the ground, so as to conceal his prepara- 
tions from the enemy till the last possible moment, 
Miltiades drew up the eleven thousand infantry whose 
spears were to decide this crisis in the struggles between 
the European and the Asiatic worlds. The sacrifices by 
which the favor of heaven was sought, and its will con- 
sulted, were announced to show propitious omens. The 
trumpet sounded for action, and, chanting the hymn of 

i6 



THE BATTLE OF MARATHON 

battle, the little army bore down upon the host of the 
foe. Then, too, along the mountain slopes of Marathon 
must have resounded the mutual exhortation; which 
^schylus, who fought in both battles, tells us was after- 
ward heard over the waves of Salamis: "On, sons of the 
Greeks! Strike for the freedom of your country! Strike 
for the freedom of your children and of your wives — for 
the shrines of your fathers' gods, and for the sepul- 
chers of your sires. All — all are now staked upon the 
strife." 

Instead of advancing at the usual slow pace of the 
phalanx, Miltiades brought his men on at a run. They 
were all trained in the exercise of the patestra, so that 
there was no fear of their ending the charge in breathless 
exhaustion; and it was of the deepest importance for 
him to traverse as rapidly as possible the mile or so of 
level ground that lay between the mountain foot and 
the Persian outposts, and so to get his troops into close 
action before the Asiatic cavalry could mount, form, and 
maneuver against him, or their archers keep him long 
under fire, and before the enemy's generals could fairly 
deploy their masses. 

"When the Persians," said Herodotus, "saw the 
Athenians running down on them, without horse or 
bowmen, and scanty in numbers, they thought them a 
set of madmen rushing upon certain destruction." They 
began, however, to prepare to receive them, and the 
Eastern chiefs arrayed, as quickly as time and place 
allowed, the varied races who served in their motley 
ranks. Mountaineers from Hyrcania and Afghanistan, 
wild horsemen from the steppes of Khorassan, the black 
archers of Ethiopia, swordsmen from the banks of 

17 



THE BOYS' BOOK OF BATTLES 

the Indus, the Oxus, the Euphrates, and the Nile, made 
ready against the enemies of the Great King. But no 
national cause inspired them except the division of na- 
tive Persians; and in the large host there was no uni- 
formity of language, creed, race, or military system. 
Still, among them there were many gallant men, under 
a veteran general ; they were familiarized with victory, 
and in contemptuous confidence, their infantry, which 
alone had time to form, awaited the Athenian charge. 
On came the Greeks, with one unwavering line of leveled 
spears, against which the light targets, the short lances 
and scimitars of the Orientals, offered weak defense. 
The front rank of the Asiatics must have gone down to a 
man at the first shock. Still they recoiled not, but strove 
by individual gallantry and by the weight of numbers 
to make up for the disadvantages of weapons and tac- 
tics, and to bear back the shallow line of the Europeans. 
In the center, where the native Persians and the Sacae 
fought, they succeeded in breaking through the weak- 
ened part of the Athenian phalanx; and the tribes led by 
Aristides and Themistocles were, after a brave resistance, 
driven back over the plain, and chased by the Persians 
up the valley toward the inner country. There the nature 
of the ground gave the opportunity of rallying and re- 
newing the struggle. Meanwhile, the Greek wings, 
where Miltiades had concentrated his chief strength, 
had routed the Asiatics opposed to them; and the 
Athenian and Plataean officers, instead of pursuing the 
fugitives, kept their troops well in hand, and, wheeling 
round, they formed the two wings together. Miltiades 
instantly led them against the Persian center, which had 
hitherto been triumphant, but which now fell back, and 



THE BATTLE OF MARATHON 

prepared to encounter these new and unexpected as- 
sailants. Aristides and Themistocles renewed the fight 
with their reorganized troops, and the full force of the 
Greeks was brought into close action with the Persian 
and Sacian divisions of the enemy. Datis's veterans 
strove hard to keep their ground, and evening was ap- 
proaching before the stem encounter was decided. 

But the Persians, with their slight wicker shields, 
destitute of body-armor, and never taught by training 
to keep the even front and act with the regular move- 
ment of the Greek infantry, fought at heavy disadvan- 
tage with their shorter and feebler weapons against the 
compact array of well-armed Athenian and Plataean 
spearmen, all perfectly drilled to perform each necessary 
evolution in concert, and to preserve a uniform and un- 
wavering Une in battle. In personal courage and in 
bodily activity the Persians were not inferior to their 
adversaries. Their spirits were not yet cowed by the 
recollection of former defeats; and they lavished their 
lives freely, rather than forfeit the fame which they had 
won by so many victories. While their rear ranks poured 
an incessant shower of arrows over the heads of their 
comrades, the foremost Persians kept rushing forward, 
sometimes singly, sometimes in desperate groups of 
twelve or ten, upon the projecting spears of the Greeks, 
striving to force a lane into the phalanx, and to bring 
their scimitars and daggers into play. But the Greeks 
felt their superiority, and though the fatigue of the long- 
continued action told heavily on their inferior numbers, 
the sight of the carnage that they dealt upon their as- 
sailants nerved them to fight still more fiercely on. 
At last the previously unvanquished lords of Asia 

19 



THE BOYS' BOOK OF BATTLES 

turned their backs and fled, and the Greeks followed, 
striking them down, to the water's edge, where the in- 
vaders were now hastily launching their galleys, and 
seeking to embark and fly. Flushed with success, the 
Athenians attacked and strove to fire the fleet. But here 
the Asiatics resisted desperately, and the principal loss 
sustained by the Greeks was in the assault on the ships. 
Here fell the brave war-ruler Callimachus, the general 
Stesilaus, and other Athenians of note. Seven galleys 
were fired; but the Persians succeeded in saving the rest. 
They pushed off from the fatal shore; but even here 
the skill of Datis did not desert him, and he sailed round 
to the western coast of Attica, in hopes to find the city 
unprotected, and to gain possession of it from some of 
the partisans of Hippias. Miltiades, however, saw and 
counteracted his maneuver. Leaving Aristides and the 
troops of his tribe to guard the spoil and the slain, the 
Athenian commander led his conquering army by a rapid 
night march back across the country to Athens. And 
when the Persian fleet had doubled the Cape of Sunium 
and sailed up to the Athenian harbor in the morning, 
Datis saw arrayed on the heights above the city the 
troops before whom his men had fled on the preceding 
evening. All hope of further conquest in Europe for the 
time was abandoned, and the baffled armada returned 
to the Asiatic coasts. 

After the battle had been fought, but while the dead 
bodies were yet on the ground, the promised reinforce- 
ment from Sparta arrived. Two thousand Lacedaemo- 
nian spearmen, starting immediately after the full moon, 
had marched the hundred and fifty miles between Athens 
and Sparta in the wonderfully short time of three days. 

20 



THE BATTLE OF MARATHON 

Though too late to share in the glory of the action, 
they requested to be allowed to march to the battle-field 
to behold the Medes. They proceeded thither, gazed on 
the dead bodies of the invaders, and then praising the 
Athenians and what they had done, they returned to 
Lacedaemon. 

The number of the Persian dead was 6400; of the 
Athenians, 192. The number of the Plataeans who fell 
is not mentioned; but as they fought in the part of the 
army which was not broken, it cannot have been large. 

The apparent disproportion between the losses of the 
two armies is not surprising when we remember the 
armor of the Greek spearmen, and the impossibility of 
heavy slaughter being inflicted by sword or lance on 
troops so armed, as long as they kept firm in their 
ranks. 

The Athenian slain were buried on the field of 
battle. This was contrary to the usual custom, accord- 
ing to which the bones of all who fell fighting for their 
country in each year were deposited in a public sepul- 
cher in the suburb of Athens called the Cerameicus. But 
it was felt that a distinction ought to be made in the 
funeral honors paid to the men of Marathon, even as 
their merit had been distinguished over that of all other 
Athenians. A lofty mound was raised on the plain of 
Marathon, beneath which the remains of the men of 
Athens who fell in the battle were deposited. Ten col- 
umns were erected on the spot, one for each of the 
Athenian tribes; and on the monumental column of each 
tribe were graven the names of those of its members 
whose glory it was to have fallen in the great battle 
of liberation. The antiquarian Pausanias read those 

21 



THE BOYS' BOOK OF BATTLES 

names there six hundred years after the time when they 
were first graven. The columns have long since perished, 
but the mound still marks the spot where the noblest 
heroes of antiquity repose. 



THE LEMNIAN: A STORY OF THERMOPYL^ 

[4S0 B.C.] 
BY JOHN BUCHAN 

[In the fifth century B.C., Persia was the most powerful 
empire in the world. Its ruler, Darius, became enraged at 
the Greeks because of the assistance which they gave to the 
Asiatic Greeks in their attempt to win freedom from his con- 
trol. He was completely routed at Marathon ; but ten years 
later his son and successor Xerxes, after vast preparations, 
set out to conquer and punish the little country which had 
dared to oppose a Persian command. His forces were met at 
the narrow pass of Thermopylae by Leonidas with a handful 
of Spartans and their allies. After two days of fruitless at- 
tack on the part of the invaders, a treacherous Greek pointed 
out to them a path over the mountains by which they could 
get to the rear of the Greeks. The Spartan soldiers knew that 
nothing but death lay before them, but the laws of their 
country forbade flight from an enemy. They fought like 
demons, but every man was slain. 

The Editor.] 

He pushed the matted locks from his brow, as he 
peered into the mist. His hair was thick with salt, and 
his eyes smarted from the green- wood fire on the poop. 
The four slaves who crouched beside the thwarts — 
Carians, with thin, birdlike faces — were in a pitiable 
case, their hands blue with oar-weals and the lash-marks 
on their shoulders beginning to gape from sun and sea. 
The Lemnian himself bore marks of ill-usage. His cloak 
was still sopping, his eyes heavy with watching, and his 
lips black and cracked with thirst. Two days before, the 

23 



THE BOYS' BOOK OF BATTLES 

storm had caught him and swept his little craft into mid- 
JEgean. He was a sailor, come of sailor stock, and he 
had fought the gale manfully and well. But the sea had 
burst his water-jars, and the torments of drought had 
been added to his toil. He had been driven south almost 
to Scyros, but had found no harbor. Then a weary day 
with the oars had brought him close to the Euboean 
shore, when a freshet of storm drove him seaward again. 
Now at last, in this northerly creek of Sciathos, he had 
found shelter and a spring. But it was a perilous place, 
for there were robbers in the bushy hills — mainland 
men who loved above all things to rob an islander; and 
out at sea, as he looked toward Pelion, there seemed 
something ado which boded little good. There was deep 
water beneath a ledge of cliflf, half covered by a tangle 
of wildwood. So Atta lay in the bows, looking through 
the trails of vine at the racing tides now reddening in the 
dawn. 

The storm had hit others besides him, it seemed. The 
channel was full of ships, aimless ships that tossed be- 
tween tide and wind. Looking closer, he saw that they 
were all wreckage. There had been tremendous doings 
in the north, and a navy of some sort had come to 
grief. Atta was a prudent man and knew that a broken 
fleet might be dangerous. There might be men lurking 
in the maimed galleys who would make short work of 
the owner of a battered but navigable craft. At first he 
thought that the ships were those of the Hellenes. The 
troublesome fellows were everywhere in the islands, 
stirring up strife, and robbing the old lords. But the 
tides running strongly from the east were bringing some 
of the wreckage in an eddy into the bay. He lay closer 

24 



THE LEMNIAN: A STORY OF THERMOPYL^ 

and watched the spars and splintered poops as they 
neared him. These were no galleys of the Hellenes. 
Then came a drowned man, swollen and horrible; then 
another — swarthy, hook-nosed fellows, all yellow with 
the sea. Atta was puzzled. They must be the men from 
the east about whom he had been hearing. 

Long ere he left Lemnos there had been news about 
the Persians. They were coming like locusts out of the 
dawn, swarming over Ionia and Thrace, men and ships 
numerous beyond telling. They meant no ill to honest 
islanders; a little earth and water were enough to win 
their friendship. But they meant death to the v/3/>r? i of 
the Hellenes. Atta was on the side of the invaders; he 
wished them well in their war with his ancient foes. 
They would eat them up, Athenians, Lacedsemonians, 
Corinthians, ^ginetans, men of Argos and Elis, and 
none would be left to trouble him. But in the mean time 
something had gone wrong. Clearly there had been no 
battle. As the bodies butted against the side of the 
galley, he hooked up one or two and found no trace of 
a wound. Poseidon had grown cranky, and had claimed 
victims. The god would be appeased by this time, and 
all would go well. Danger being past, he bade the men 
get ashore and fill the water-skins. "God's curse on all 
Hellenes!" he said, as he soaked up the cold water from 
the spring in the thicket. 

About noon he set sail again. The wind sat in the 
northeast, but the wall of Pelion turned it into a light 
stern breeze which carried him swiftly westward. The 
four slaves, still leg-weary and arm-weary, lay like logs 
beside the thwarts. Two slept; one munched some salty 

* Riotousness. 
25 



THE BOYS' BOOK OF BATTLES 

figs; the fourth, the headman, stared wearily forward 
with ever and again a glance back at his master. But 
the Lemnian never looked his way. His head was on his 
breast as he steered, and he brooded on the sins of the 
Hellenes. 

He was of the old Pelasgian stock, — the first lords of 
the land, who had come out of the soil at the call of God. 
The pillaging northmen had crushed his folk out of the 
mainlands and most of the islands, but in Lemnos they 
had met their match. It was a family story how every 
grown male had been slain, and how the women long 
after had slaughtered their conquerors in the night. 
''Lemnian deeds," said the Hellenes, when they wished 
to speak of some shameful thing; but to Atta the shame 
was a glory to be cherished forever. He and his kind 
were the ancient people, and the gods loved old things, 
as these new folk would find. Very especially he hated 
the men of Athens. Had not one of their captains, Milti- 
ades, beaten the Lemnians and brought the island under 
Athenian sway? True, it was a rule only in name, for 
any Athenian who came alone to Lemnos would soon 
be cleaving the air from the highest cliff- top. But the 
thought irked his pride, and he gloated over the Per- 
sians' coming. The Great King from beyond the deserts 
would smite these outrageous upstarts. Atta would will- 
ingly give earth and water. It was the whim of a fan- 
tastic barbarian, and would be well repaid if the bastard 
Hellenes were destroyed. They spoke his own tongue, 
and worshiped his own gods, and yet did evil. Let the 
nemesis of Zeus devour them ! 

The wreckage pursued him everywhere. Dead men 
shouldered the side of the galley, and the straits were 

26 



THE LEMNIAN: A STORY OF THERMOPYL^ 

stuck full of things like monstrous buoys, where tall 
ships had foundered. At Artemisium he thought he saw 
signs of an anchored fleet with the low poops of the Hel- 
lenes, and steered off to the northern shores. There, 
looking towards CEta and the Malian Gulf, he found an 
anchorage at sunset. The waters were ugly and the 
times ill, and he had come on an enterprise bigger than 
he had dreamed. The Lemnian was a stout fellow, but 
he had no love for needless danger. He laughed mirth- 
lessly as he thought of his errand, for he was going to 
Hellas, to the shrine of the Hellenes. 

It was a woman's doing, like most crazy enterprises. 
Three years ago his wife had labored hard in childbirth, 
and had had the whims of laboring women. Up in the 
keep of Larissa, on the windy hillside, there had been 
heart-searching and talk about the gods. The little olive- 
wood Hermes, the very private and particular god of 
Atta's folk, was good enough in simple things like a 
lambing or a harvest, but he was scarcely fit for heavy 
tasks. Atta's wife declared that her lord lacked piety. 
There were mainland gods who repaid worship, but his 
scorn of all Hellenes made him blind to the merits of 
these potent divinities. At first Atta resisted. There was 
Attic blood in his wife, and he strove to argue with her 
unorthodox craving. But the woman persisted, and a 
Lemnian wife, as she is beyond other wives in virtue and 
comeliness, is beyond them in stubbornness of temper. 
A second time she was with child, and nothing would 
content her but that Atta should make his prayers 
to the stronger gods. Dodona was far away, and long 
ere he reached it his throat would be cut in the hills. 
But Delphi was but two days' journey from the Malian 

27 



THE BOYS' BOOK OF BATTLES 

coast, and the gods of Delphi, the Far-Darter, had sur- 
prising gifts, if one were to credit travelers' tales. 

Atta yielded with an ill grace, and out of his wealth 
devised an offering to Apollo. So on this July day he 
found himself looking across the gulf to Kallidromos 
bound for a Hellenic shrine, but hating all Hellenes in 
his soul. A verse of Homer consoled him, — the words 
which Phocion spoke to Achilles. " Verily even the gods 
may be turned, they whose excellence and honor and 
strength are greater than thine ; yet even these do men, 
when they pray, turn from their purpose with offerings 
of incense and pleasant vows." The Far-Darter must 
hate the ^/3/?i9 of these Hellenes, and be the more ready 
to avenge it since they dared to claim his countenance. 
"No race has ownership in the gods," a Lemnian song- 
maker had said, when Atta had been questioning the 
ways of Poseidon. 

The following dawn found him coasting past the 
north end of Euboea, in the thin fog of a windless sum- 
mer morn. He steered by the peak of Othrys and a spur 
of CEta, as he had learned from a slave who had traveled 
the road. Presently he was in the muddy Malian waters 
and the sun was scattering the mist on the landward 
side. And then he became aware of a greater commo- 
tion than Poseidon's play with the ships off Pelion. A 
murmur like a winter's storm came seaward. He low- 
ered the sail which he had set to catch a chance breeze, 
and bade the men rest on their oars. An earthquake 
seemed to be tearing at the roots of the hills. 

The mist rolled up and his hawk eyes saw a strange 
sight. The water was green and still around him, but 
shoreward it changed its color. It was a dirty red, and 

28 



THE LEMNIAN: A STORY OF THERMOPYLAE 

things bobbed about in it like the Persians in the creek 
of Sciathos. On the strip of shore, below the sheer wall 
of Kallidromos, men were fighting — myriads of men, 
far away toward Locris they stretched in ranks and ban- 
ners and tents till the eye lost them in the haze. There 
was no sail on the queer, muddy, red-edged sea; there 
was no man in the hills; but on that one flat ribbon of 
sand all the nations of the earth were warring. He re- 
membered about the place: Thermopylae, they called it, 
the Hot Gates. The Hellenes were fighting the Persians 
in the pass for their fatherland. 

Atta was prudent, and loved not other men's quarrels. 
He gave the word to the rowers to row seaward. In 
twenty strokes they were in the mist again. 

Atta was prudent, but he was also stubborn. He 
spent the day in a creek on the northern shore of the 
gulf, Hstening to the weird hum which came over the 
waters out of the haze. He cursed the delay. Up on 
Kallidromos would be clear, dry air and the path to 
Delphi among the oak woods. The Hellenes could not 
be fighting everjrwhere at once. He might find some 
spot on the shore far in their rear, where he could land 
and gain the hills. There was danger indeed, but once 
on the ridge he would be safe; and by the time he came 
back the Great King would have swept the defenders 
into the sea and be well on the road for Athens. He 
asked himself if it were fitting that a Lemnian should be 
stayed in his holy task by the struggles of Hellene and 
barbarian. His thoughts flew to his homestead at La- 
rissa, and the dark-eyed wife who was awaiting his home- 
coming. He could not return without Apollo's favor; 
his manhood and the memory of his lady's eyes forbade 

29 



THE BOYS' BOOK OF BATTLES 

it. So, late in the afternoon he pushed off again and 
steered his galley for the south. 

About sunset the mist cleared from the sea; but the 
dark falls swiftly in the shadow of the high hills, and Atta 
had no fear. With the night the hum sank to a whisper; 
it seemed that the invaders were drawing off to camp, 
for the sound receded to the west. At the last light the 
Lemnian touched a rock-point well in the rear of the 
defense. He noticed that the spume at the tide's edge 
was reddish and stuck to his hands like gum. Of a 
surety, much blood was flowing on that coast. 

He bade his slaves return to the north shore and lie 
hidden there to await him. When he came back he 
would light a signal fire on the topmost bluff of Kalli- 
dromos. Let them watch for it and come to take him 
off. Then he seized his bow and quiver, and his short 
hunting spear, buckled his cloak about him, saw that 
the gift to Apollo was safe in the folds of it, and marched 
sturdily up the hillside. 

The moon was in her first quarter, a slim horn which 
at her rise showed only the faint outline of the hill. Atta 
plodded steadfastly on, but he found the way hard. 
This was not like the crisp sea-turf of Lemnos, where 
among the barrow^s of the ancient dead, sheep and kine 
could find sweet fodder. Kallidromos ran up as steep as 
the roof of a barn. Cytisus and thyme and juniper grew 
rank, but, above all, the place was strewn with rocks, 
leg-twisting boulders, and great cliffs where eagles dwelt. 
Being a seaman, Atta had his bearings. The path to 
Delphi left the shore road near the Hot Gates, and went 
south by a rift of the mountain. If he went up the slope 
in a bee-line he must strike it in time and find better 

30 



THE LEMNIAN: A STORY OF THERMOPYLAE 

going. Still it was an eerie place to be tramping after 
dark. The Hellenes had strange gods of the thicket and 
hillside, and he had no wish to intrude upon their sanc- 
tuaries. He told himself that next to the Hellenes he 
hated this country of theirs, where a man sweltered in 
hot jungles or tripped among hidden crags. He sighed 
for the cool beaches below Larissa, where the surf was 
white as the snows of Samothrace, and the fisher-boys 
sang round their smoking broth-pots. 

Presently he found a path. It was not the mule road, 
worn by many feet, that he had looked for, but a little 
track which twined among the boulders. Still it eased 
his feet, so he cleared the thorns from his sandals, 
strapped his belt tighter, and stepped out more con- 
fidently. Up and up he went, making odd detours among 
the crags. Once he came to a promontory, and, looking 
down, saw lights twinkling from the Hot Gates. He had 
thought the course lay more southeriy, but consoled 
himself by remembering that a mountain path must 
have many windings. The great matter was that he was 
ascending, for he knew that he must cross the ridge of 
CEta before he struck the Locrian glens that led to the 
Far-Darter's shrine. 

At what seemed the summit of the first ridge he halted 
for breath, and, prone on the thyme, looked back to sea. 
The Hot Gates were hidden, but across the gulf a single 
light shone from the far shore. He guessed that by this 
time his galley had been beached and his slaves were 
cooking supper. The thought made him homesick. He 
had beaten and cursed these slaves of his, times without 
number, but now in this strange land he felt them kins- 
folk, men of his own household. Then he told himself 

31 



THE BOYS' BOOK OF BATTLES 

he was no better than a woman. Had he not gone sail- 
ing to Chalcedon and distant Pontus, many months* 
journey from home, while this was but a trip of days. 
In a week he would be welcomed home by a smiling wife, 
with a friendly god behind him. 

The track still bore west, though Delphi lay in the 
south. Moreover, he had come to a broader road run- 
ning through a little tableland. The highest peaks of 
(Eta were dark against the sky, and around him was a 
flat glade where oaks whispered in the night breezes. By 
this time he judged from the stars that midnight had 
passed, and he began to consider whether, now that he 
was beyond the fighting, he should not sleep and wait for 
dawn. He made up his mind to find a shelter, and in 
the aimless way of the night traveler, pushed on and on 
in the quest of it. The truth is, his mind was on Lemnos 
and a dark-eyed, white-armed dame spinning in the 
evening by the threshold. His eyes roamed among the 
oak trees, but vacantly and idly, and many a mossy 
corner was passed unheeded. He forgot his ill-temper, 
and hummed cheerfully the song his reapers sang in 
the barley-fields below his orchard. It was a song of 
sea-men turned husbandmen, for the gods it called on 
were the gods of the sea. 

Suddenly he found himself crouching among the young 
oaks, peering and listening. There was something com- 
ing from the west. It was like the first mutterings of a 
storm in a narrow harbor, a steady rustling and whisper- 
ing. It was not wind ; he knew winds too well to be de- 
ceived. It was the tramp of light-shod feet among the 
twigs — many feet, for the sound remained steady, 

32 



THE LEMNIAN: A STORY OF THERMOPYL^ 

while the noise of a few men will rise and fall. They were 
coming fast and coming silently. The war had reached 
far up Kallidromos. 

Atta had played this game often in the Httle island 
wars. Very swiftly he ran back and away from the path, 
up the slope which he knew to be the first ridge of Kal- 
lidromos. The army, whatever it might be, was on the 
Delphian road. Were the Hellenes about to turn the 
flank of the Great King? 

A moment later he laughed at his folly. For the men 
began to appear, and they were coming to meet him, 
coming from the west. Lying close in the brush-wood, 
he could see them clearly. It was well he had left the 
road, for they stuck to it, following every winding, — 
crouching, too, like hunters after deer. The first man he 
saw was a Hellene, but the ranks behind were no Hel- 
lenes. There was no glint of bronze or gleam of fair skin. 
They were dark, long-haired fellows, with spears like his 
own and round eastern caps and egg-shaped bucklers. 
Then Atta rejoiced. It was the Great King who was 
turning the flank of the Hellenes. They guarded the 
gate, the fools, while the enemy slipped through the 
roof. 

He did not rejoice long. The van of the army was 
narrow and kept to the path, but the men behind were 
straggling all over the hillside. Another minute and he 
would be discovered. The thought was cheerless. It 
was true that he was an islander and friendly to the Per- 
sian, but up on the heights who would listen to his tale? 
He would be taken for a spy, and one of those thirsty 
spears would drink his blood. It must be farewell to Del- 
phi for the moment, he thought, or farewell to Lemnos 

S3 



THE BOYS' BOOK OF BATTLES 

forever. Crouching low, he ran back and away from 
the path to the crest of the sea-ridge of Kallidromos. 

The men came nearer to him. They were keeping 
roughly to the line of the path, and drifted through the 
oak wood before him, an army without end. He had 
scarcely thought there were so many fighting men in the 
world. He resolved to lie there on the crest, in the hope 
that ere the first hght they would be gone. Then he 
would push on to Delphi, leaving them to settle their 
quarrels behind him. These were hard times for a pious 
pilgrim. 

But another noise caught his ear from the right. The 
army had flanking squadrons, and men were coming 
along the ridge. Very bitter anger rose in Atta's heart. 
He had cursed the Hellenes, and now he cursed the bar- 
barians no less. Nay, he cursed all war, that spoiled the 
errands of peaceful folk. And then, seeking safety, he 
dropped over the crest on to the steep shoreward face of 
the mountain. 

In an instant his breath had gone from him. He had 
slid down a long slope of screes, and then with a gasp 
found himself falling sheer into space. Another second, 
and he was caught in a tangle of bush, and then dropped 
once more upon screes, where he clutched desperately 
for handhold. Breathless and bleeding, he came to 
anchor on a shelf of greensward, and found himself blink- 
ing up at the crest, which seemed to tower a thousand 
feet above. There were men on the crest now. He 
heard them speak, and felt that they were looking down. 

The shockkept him still till the men had passed. Then 
the terror of the place gripped him and he tried fever- 
ishly to retrace his steps. A dweller all his days among 

34 



THE LEMNIAN: A STORY OF THERMOPYL^ 

gentle downs, he grew dizzy with the sense of being hung 
in space. But the only fruit of his efforts was to set him 
slipping again. This time he pulled up at a root of 
gnarled oak, which overhung the sheerest cliff on Kalli- 
dromos. The danger brought his wits back. He sul- 
lenly reviewed his case and found it desperate. 

He could not go back, and, even if he did, he would 
meet the Persians. If he went on he would break his neck, 
or at the best fall into the Hellenes' hands. Oddly 
enough he feared his old enemies less than his friends. 
He did not think that the Hellenes would butcher him. 
Again, he might sit perched in his eyrie till they settled 
their quarrel or he fell off. He rejected this last way. 
Fall off he should for certain, unless he kept moving. 
Already he was giddy with the vertigo of the heights. 

It was growing lighter. Suddenly he was looking not 
into a black world but to a pearl-gray floor, far beneath 
him. It was the sea, the thing he knew and loved. The 
sight screwed up his courage. He remembered that he 
was a Lemnian and a seafarer. He would be conquered 
neither by rock nor by Hellene nor by the Great King. 
Least of all by the last, who was a barbarian. Slowly, 
with clenched teeth and narrowed eyes, he began to 
clamber down a ridge which flanked the great cliff of 
Kallidromos. His plan was to reach the shore, and 
take the road to the east before the Persians completed 
their circuit. Some instinct told him that a great army 
would not take the track he had mounted by. There 
must be some longer and easier way debouching farther 
down the coast. He might yet have the good luck to 
slip between them and the sea. 

The two hours which followed tried his courage hard. 

35 



THE BOYS' BOOK OF BATTLES 

Thrice he fell, and only a juniper root stood between him 
and death. His hands grew ragged, and his nails were 
worn to the quick. He had long ago lost his weapons; his 
cloak was in shreds, all save the breast-fold which held 
the gift to Apollo. The heavens brightened, but he dared 
not look around. He knew that he was traversing awe- 
some places where a goat would scarcely tread. Many 
times he gave up hope of life. His head was swimming, 
and he was so deadly sick that often he had to lie gasp- 
ing on some shoulder of rock less steep than the rest. 
But his anger kept him to his purpose. He was filled 
with fury at the Hellenes. It was they and their folly 
that had brought him these mischances. Some day — 

He found himself sitting blinking on the shore of the 
sea. A furlong off, the water was lapping on the reefs. 
A man, larger than human in the morning mist, was 
standing above him. 

"Greeting, stranger," said the voice. *'By Hermes, 
you choose the difiQcult roads to travel." 

Atta felt for broken bones, and, reassured, struggled 
to his feet. 

" God's curse upon all mountains," he said. He stag- 
gered to the edge of the tide and laved his brow. The 
savor of salt revived him. He turned, to find the tall 
man at his elbow, and noted how worn and ragged he 
was, and yet how upright. 

"When a pigeon is flushed from the rocks, there is a 
hawk near," said the voice. 

Atta was angry. "A hawk!" he cried. "Ay, an army 
of eagles. There will be some rare flushing of Hellenes 
before evening." 

36 



THE LEMNIAN: A STORY OF THERMOPYLAE 

"What frightened you, islander? " the stranger asked. 
"Did a wolf bark up on the hillside?" 

"Ay, a wolf. The wolf from the East with a multitude 
of wolflings. There will be fine eating soon in the pass." 

The man's face grew dark. He put his hand to his 
mouth and called. Half a dozen sentries ran to join him. 
He spoke to them in the harsh Lacedsemonian speech 
which made Atta sick to hear. They talked with the 
back of the throat, and there was not an "s" in their 
words. 

"There is mischief in the hills," the first man said. 
"This islander has been frightened down over the 
rocks. The Persian is stealing a march on us." 

The sentries laughed. One quoted a proverb about 
island courage. Atta's wrath flared and he forgot him- 
self. He had no wish to warn the Hellenes, but it irked 
his pride to be thought a liar. He began to tell his story 
hastily, angrily, confusedly; and the men still laughed. 

Then he turned eastward and saw the proof before 
him. The light had grown and the sun was coming up 
over Pelion. The first beam fell on the eastern ridge of 
Kallidromos, and there, clear on the sky-line, was the 
proof. The Persian was making a wide circuit, but mov- 
ing shoreward. In a little he would be at the coast, and 
by noon at the Hellenes' rear. 

His hearers doubted no more. Atta was hurried 
forward through the fines of the Greeks to the narrow 
throat of the pass, where behind a rough rampart of 
stones lay the Lacedaemonian headquarters. He was still 
giddy from the heights, and it was in a giddy dream that 
he traversed the misty shingles of the beach amid ranks 
of sleeping warriors. It was a grim place, for there were 

37 . 



THE BOYS' BOOK OF BATTLES 

dead and dying in it, and blood on every stone. But in 
the lee of the wall little fires were burning, and slaves 
were cooking breakfast. The smell of roasting flesh came 
pleasantly to his nostrils, and he remembered that he 
had had no meal since he crossed the gulf. 

Then he found himself the center of a group who had 
the air of kings. They looked as if they had been years 
in war. Never had he seen faces so worn and so terribly 
scarred. The hollows in their cheeks gave them the air of 
smiling, and yet they were grave. Their scarlet vests 
were torn and muddied, and the armor which lay near 
was dinted like the scrap-iron before a smithy door. But 
what caught his attention was the eyes of the men. 
They glittered as no eyes he had ever seen before glit- 
tered. The sight cleared his bewilderment and took the 
pride out of his heart. He could not pretend to despise 
a folk who looked like Ares fresh from the wars of the 
Immortals. 

They spoke among themselves in quiet voices. Scouts 
came and went, and once or twice one of the men, taller 
than the rest, asked Atta a question. The Lemnian sat in 
the heart of the group, sniffing the smell of cooking, and 
looking at the rents in his cloak and the long scratches 
on his legs. Something was pressing on his breast, and 
he found that it was Apollo's gift. He had forgotten all 
about it. Delphi seemed beyond the moon, and his er- 
rand a child's dream. 

Then the king, for so he thought of the tall man, 
spoke: — 

"You have done us a service, islander. The Persian 
is at our back and front, and there will be no escape for 
those who stay. Our allies are going home, for they do 

38 



THE LEMNIAN: A STORY OF THERMOPYLAE 

not share our vows. V/e of LacedEemon wait in the pass. 
If you go with the men of Corinth you will find a place 
of safety before noon. No doubt in the Euripus there is 
some boat to take you to your own land." 

He spoke courteously, not in the rude Athenian way; 
and somehow the quietness of his voice and his glitter- 
ing eyes roused wild longings in Atta's heart. His island 
pride was face to face with a greater — greater than he 
had ever dreamed of. 

"Bid yon cooks give me some broth," he said gruffly. 
"I am faint. After I have eaten, I will speak with you." 

He was given food, and as he ate he thought. He was 
on trial before these men of Lacedsemon. More, the old 
faith of the Islands, the pride of the first masters, was 
at stake in his hands. He had boasted that he and his 
kind were the last of the men; now these Hellenes of 
Lacedaemon were preparing a great deed, and they 
deemed him unworthy to share in it. They ofi"ered him 
safety. Could he brook the insult? 

He had forgotten that the cause of the Persian was his; 
that the Hellenes were the foes of his race. He saw only 
that the last test of manhood was preparing, and the 
manhood in him rose to greet the trial. An odd, wild 
ecstasy surged in his veins. It was not the lust of battle, 
for he had no love of slaying, or hate for the Persian, 
for he was his friend. It was the sheer joy of proving 
that the Lemnian stock had a starker pride than these 
men of Lacedaemon. They would die for their father- 
land and their vows, but he, for a whim, a scruple, a 
delicacy of honor. His mind was so clear that no other 
course occurred to him. There was only one way for a 
man. He too would be dying for his fatherland, for 

39 



THE BOYS' BOOK OF BATTLES 

through him the island race would be ennobled in the 
eyes of gods and men. 

Troops were filing fast to the east — Thebans, Co- 
rinthians, 

"Time flies, islander," said the king's voice. "The 
hours of safety are sHpping past." 

Atta looked up carelessly. "I will stay," he said. 
"God's curse on all Hellenes! Little care I for your 
quarrels. It is nothing to me if your Hellas is under the 
heel of the East. But I care much for brave men. It 
shall never be said that a man of Lemnos, a son of the 
old race, fell back when Death threatened. I stay with 
you, men of Lacedaemon." 

The king's eyes ghttered; they seemed to peer into 
his heart. 

"It appears they breed men in the islands," he said. 
"But you err. Death does not threaten. Death awaits 
us." 

"It is all the same," said Atta. "But I crave a boon. 
Let me fight my last fight by your side. I am of older 
stock than you, and a king in my own country. I would 
strike my last blow among kings." 

There was an hour of respite before battle was joined, 
and Atta spent it by the edge of the sea. He had been 
given arms, and in girding himself for the fight he had 
found Apollo's offering in his breast-fold. He was done 
with the gods of the Hellenes. His offering should go 
to the gods of his own people. So, calling upon Poseidon, 
he flung the little gold cup far out to sea. It flashed 
in the sunlight, and then sank in the soft green tides so 
noiselessly that it seemed as if the hand of the sea-god 

40 



THE LEMNIAN: A STORY OF THERMOPYL^ 

had been stretched to take it. "Hail, Poseidon!" the 
Lemnian cried. "I am bound this day for the Ferry- 
man. To you only I make prayer, and to the little 
Hermes of Larissa. Be kind to my kin when they travel 
the sea, and keep them islanders and seafarers forever. 
Hail, and farewell, God of my own folk!" 

Then, while the little waves lapped on the white sand, 
Atta made a song. He was thinking of the homestead 
far up in the green downs, looking over to the snows of 
Samothrace. At this hour in the morning there would be 
a tinkle of sheep-bells as the flocks went down to the low 
pastures. Cool winds would be blowing, and the noise 
of the surf below the cliffs would come faint to the ear. 
In the hall the maids would be spinning, while their dark- 
haired mistress would be casting swift glances to the 
doorway, lest it might be filled any moment by the form 
of her returning lord. Outside in the checkered sunhght 
of the orchard the child would be playing with his nurse, 
crooning in childish syllables the chanty his father had 
taught him. And at the thought of his home a great 
passion welled up in Atta's heart. It was not regret, but 
joy and pride and aching love. In his antique island- 
creed the death he was awaiting was no other than a 
bridal. He was dying for the things he loved, and by his 
death they would be blessed eternally. He would not 
have long to wait before bright eyes came to greet him 
in the House of Shadows. 

So Atta made the Song of Atta, and sang it then and 
later in the press of battle. It was a simple song, like the 
lays of seafarers. It put into rough verse the thought 
which cheers the heart of all adventurers, nay, which 
makes adventure possible for those who have much to 

41 



THE BOYS' BOOK OF BATTLES 

leave. It spoke of the shining pathway of the sea which 
is the Great Uniter. A man may lie dead in Pontus or 
beyond the Pillars of Hercules, but if he dies on the 
shore there is nothing between him and his fatherland. 
It spoke of a battle all the long dark night in a strange 
place — a place of marshes and black cliffs and shadowy 
terrors. 

''/w the dawn the sweet light comes, ''^ said the song, 
*' and the salt winds and the tides will hear me home.'' . . . 

When in the evening the Persians took toll of the dead, 
they found one man who puzzled them. He lay among 
the tall Lacedaemonians, on the very lip of the sea, 
and around him were swaths of their countrymen. It 
looked as if he had been fighting his way to the water, 
and had been overtaken by death as his feet reached the 
edge. Nowhere in the pass did the dead lie so thick, 
and yet he was no Hellene. He was torn like a deer that 
the dogs had worried, but the little left of his garments 
and his features spoke of Eastern race. The survivors 
could tell nothing except that he had fought like a god, 
and had been singing all the while. 

The matter came to the ear of the Great King, who 
was sore enough at the issue of the day. That one of his 
men had performed feats of valor beyond the Hellenes 
was a pleasant tale to tell. And so his captains reported 
it. Accordingly, when the fleet from Artemisium ar- 
rived next morning, and all but a few score Persians were 
shoveled into holes that the Hellenes might seem to 
have been conquered by a lesser force, Atta's body was 
laid out with pomp in the midst of the Lacedaemonians. 
And the seamen rubbed their eyes and thanked their 

42 



THE LEMNIAN: A STORY OF THERMOPYL^ 

strange gods that one man of the East had been found to 
match those terrible warriors whose name was a night- 
mare. Further, the Great King gave orders that the body 
of Atta should be embalmed and carried with the army, 
and that his name and kin should be sought out and duly 
honored. This latter was a task too hard for the staff, 
and no more was heard of it till months after, when the 
king, in full flight after Salamis, bethought him of the 
one man who had not played him false. Finding that 
his lieutenants had nothing to tell him, he eased five 
of them of their heads. 

As it happened, the deed was not quite forgotten. An 
islander, a Lesbian and a cautious man, had fought at 
Thermopylae in the Persian ranks, and had heard Atta's 
singing and seen how he fell. Long afterwards some er- 
rand took this man to Lemnos, and in the evening, speak- 
ing with the Elders, he told his tale and repeated some- 
thing of the song. There was that in the words which 
gave the Lemnians a clue, the mention, I think, of the 
olive-wood Hermes and the snows of Samothrace. So 
Atta came to great honor among his own people, and his 
memory and his words were handed down to the genera- 
tions. The song became a favorite island lay, and for 
centuries throughout the ^gean seafaring men sang it 
when they turned their prows to wild seas. Nay, it 
traveled farther, for you will find part of it stolen by 
Euripides and put in a chorus of the "Andromache." 
There are echoes of it in some of the epigrams of the 
"Anthology"; and though the old days have gone, the 
simple fisher-folk still sing snatches in their barbarous 
dialect. The Klephts used to make a catch of it at night 

43 



THE BOYS' BOOK OF BATTLES 

round their fires in the hills, and only the other day I met 
a man on Scyros who had collected a dozen variants and 
was publishing them in a dull book on island folklore. 

In the centuries which followed the great fight, the 
sea fell away from the roots of the cliffs, and left a mile 
of marshland. About fifty years ago a peasant, digging 
in a rice-field, found the cup which Atta had given to 
Poseidon. There was much talk about the discovery, 
and scholars debated hotly about its origin. To-day it 
is in the Munich Museum, and according to the new 
fashion in archaeology it is labeled "Minoan," and kept 
in the Cretan Section. But any one who looks carefully 
will see behind the rim a neat little carving of a dolphin; 
and I happen to know that this was the private badge of 
Atta's house. 



THE SIEGE OF PLAT^A 

[427 B.C.] 
BY THUCYDroES 

[The cause of the Peloponnesian War was the rivalry 
between Sparta and Athens. The Httle city of Platasa was a 
faithful friend to Athens, and therefore the Spartans set 
about its conquest. 

The Editor^ 

Archidamus first of all formed an inclosure round about 
them with the trees they had felled, so that no one could 
get out of the city. In the next place, they raised a 
mount of earth before the place, hoping that it could not 
long hold out a siege against the efforts of so large an 
army. Having felled a quantity of timber on Mount 
Cithaeron, with it they framed the mount on either side, 
that thus cased it might perform the service of a wall, 
and that the earth might be kept from mouldering away 
too fast. Upon it they heaped a quantity of matter, 
both stones and earth, and whatever else would cement 
together and increase the bulk. This work employed 
them for seventy days and nights without intermission, 
all being alternately employed in it, so that one part of 
the army was carrying it on, whilst the other took the 
necessary refreshments of food and sleep. Those Lace- 
dsemonians who had the command over the hired troops 
of the other states had the care of the work, and obliged 
them all to assist in carrying it on. The Plataeans, seeing 
this mount raised to a great height, built a counterwork 
of wood, close to that part of the city wall against which 

45 



THE BOYS' BOOK OF BATTLES 

this mount of earth was thrown up, and strengthened the 
inside of it with bricks, which they got for this use by 
pulling down the adjacent houses. The wooden case 
was designed to keep it firm together, and prevent the 
whole pile from being weakened by its height. They 
further covered it over with sheepskins and hides of 
beasts, to defend the workmen from missive weapons, 
and to preserve the wood from being fired by the enemy. 
This work within was raised to a great height, and the 
mount was raised with equal expedition without. Upon 
this, the Plata^ans had resource to another device. They 
broke a hole through the wall, close to which the mount 
was raised, and drew the earth away from under it into 
the city. But this being discovered by the Peloponne- 
sians, they threw into the hole hurdles made of reeds and 
stuffed with clay, which being of a firm consistence could 
not be dug away like earth. By this they were excluded, 
and so desisted for a while from their former practice. 
Yet digging a subterranean passage from out of the city, 
which they so luckily continued that it undermined the 
mount, they again withdrew the earth from under it. 
This practice long escaped the discovery of the besiegers, 
who still heaped on matter, yet the work grew rather 
less, as the earth was drawn away from the bottom, and 
that above fell in to fill up the void. However, still 
apprehensive that, as they were few in number, they 
should not be able long to hold out against such numer- 
ous besiegers, they had recourse to another project. 
They desisted from carrying on the great pile which was 
to counterwork the mount, and beginning at each end of 
it where the wall was low, they ran another wall in the 
form of a crescent along the inside of the city, that if the 

46 



THE SIEGE OF PLAT^A 

great wall should be taken this might afterwards hold 
out, and might lay the enemy under the necessity of 
throwing up a fresh mount against it, and that thus 
the farther they advanced, the difficulties' of the siege 
might be doubled, and be carried on with increase of 
danger. 

When their mount was completed, the Peloponne- 
sians played away their battering-engines against the 
wall ; and one of them they worked so dextrously from 
the mount against the great pile within, that they shook 
it very much, and threw the Plataeans into consternation. 
Others they applied in different parts against the wall, 
the force of which was broken by the Platasans, who threw 
ropes around them ; they also tied large beams together, 
with long chains of iron at both ends of the beams, by 
which they hung downwards from two other transverse 
beams inclined and extended beyond the wall. These 
they drew along obliquely, and against whatever part 
they saw the engine of battery to be aimed, they let go 
the beams with a full swing of the chains, and so dropped 
them down directly upon it, which by the weight of the 
stroke broke off the beak of the battering engine. Upon 
this, the Peloponnesians, finding all their engines useless, 
and their mount effectually counterworked by the forti- 
fication within, concluded it a business of no little hazard 
to take the place amidst so many obstacles, and pre- 
pared to draw a circumvallation about it. 

But first they were willing to try whether it were not 
possible to set the town on fire, and burn it down, as it 
was not large, by help of a brisk gale of wind; for they 
cast their thoughts towards every expedient of taking it 
without a large expense and a tedious blockade. Pro- 

47 



THE BOYS' BOOK OF BATTLES 

curing for this purpose a quantity of fagots, they tossed 
them from their own mount into the void space between 
the wall and the inner fortification. As many hands 
were employed in this business, they had soon filled it 
up, and then proceeded to toss more of them into the 
other parts of the city lying beyond, as far as they could 
by the advantage which the eminence gave them. Upon 
these they threw fiery balls made of sulphur and pitch, 
which caught the fagots, and soon kindled such a flame 
as before this time no one had ever seen kindled by the 
art of man- It hath indeed sometimes happened, that 
wood growing upon mountains hath been so heated by 
the attrition of the winds, that without any other cause 
it hath broken out into fire and flame. But this was ex- 
ceeding fierce ; and the Platteans, who had bafiied all 
other efforts, were very narrowly delivered from perish- 
ing by its fury; for it cleared the city to a great dis- 
tance round about, so that no Platsean durst approach 
it: and if the wind had happened to have blown along 
with it, as the enemy hoped, they must all unavoid- 
ably have perished. It is now reported that a heavy 
rain, falling on a sudden, attended with claps of thunder, 
extinguished the flame, and put an end to this imminent 
danger. 

The Peloponnesians, upon the failure of this project, 
marched away part of their army; but continuing the 
remainder there, raised a wall of circumvallation quite 
round the city, the troops of every confederate state 
executing a determinate part of the work. Both inside 
and outside of this wall was a ditch, and by first digging 
these they had got materials for brick. This work being 
completed about the rising of Arcturus, they left some 

48 



THE SIEGE OF PLAT^A 

of their own men to guard half of the wall, the other half 
being left to the care of the Boeotians, then marched 
away with the main army, and dismissed the auxiliary 
forces of their respective cities. The Plataeans had 
already sent away to Athens their wives, their children, 
their old people, and all the useless crowd of inhabitants. 
There were only left in the town during the siege four 
hundred Plataeans, eighty Athenians, and one hundred 
and ten women to prepare their food. This was the 
whole number of them when the siege was first formed; 
nor was there any other person within the wall, either 
slave or free. And in this manner was the city of Plataea 
besieged in form. . . . 

This winter the Plataeans, — for they were still 
blocked up by the Peloponnesians and Boeotians, — find- 
ing themselves much distressed by the failure of their 
provisions, giving up all hope of succor from the Athe- 
nians, and quite destitute of all other means of preserva- 
tion, formed a project now in concert with those Athe- 
nians who were shut up with them in the blockade, "first 
of all to march out of the town in company, and to 
compass their escape, if possible, over the works of the 
enemy." The authors of this project were Thaeanetus, 
the son of Timedes, a soothsayer, and Eumolpidas, the 
son of Daimachus, who was one of their commanders. 
But afterwards, half of the number, affrighted by the 
greatness of the danger, refused to have a share in the 
attempt. Yet the remainder, to the number of about 
two hundred and twenty, resolutely adhered to attempt 
an escape in the following manner: — 

They made ladders equal in height to the enemy's 
wall. The measure of this they learned from the rows of 

49 



THE BOYS' BOOK OF BATTLES 

brick, where the side of the wall facing them was not 
covered over with plaster. Several persons were ap- 
pointed to count the rows at the same time; some of 
them might probably be wrong, but the greater part 
would agree in the just computation; especially, as they 
counted them several times over, and were besides at no 
great distance, since the part marked out for the design 
was plainly within their view. In this method, having 
guessed the measure of a brick from its thickness, they 
found out what must be the total height for the ladders. 

The work of the Peloponnesians was of the following 
structure: it was composed of two circular walls; one 
towards Plataea, and the other outward, to prevent any 
attack from Athens. These walls were at the distance 
of sixteen feet one from the other; and this intermedi- 
ate space of sixteen feet was built into distinct lodgments 
for the guards. These, however, standing thick together, 
gave to the whole work the appearance of one thick entire 
wall with battlements on both sides. At every ten battle- 
ments were lofty turrets of the same breadth with the 
whole work, reaching from the face of the inward wall 
to that of the outward : so that there was no passage by 
the sides of a turret, but the communication lay open 
through the middle of them all. By night, when the 
weather was rainy, they quitted the battlements, and 
sheltering themselves in the turrets, as near at hand 
and covered overhead, there they continued their watch. 
Such was the form of the work by which the Plateaus 
were enclosed on every side. 

The enterprising body, when everything was ready, 
laying hold of the opportunity of a night tempestuous 
with wind and rain, and further at a dark moon, marched 

SO 



THE SIEGE OF PLAT^A 

out of the place. The persons who had been authors of 
the project were now the conductors. And first, they 
passed the ditch which surrounded the town ; then they 
approached quite up to the wall of the enemy, undiscov- 
ered by the guards. The darkness of the night prevented 
their being seen, and the noise they made in approach- 
ing was quite drowned in the loudness of the storm. 
They advanced also at a great distance from one another, 
to prevent any discovery from the mutual clashing of 
their arms. They were further armed in the most com- 
pact manner, and wore a covering only on the left foot, 
for the sake of treading firmly in the sand. At one of the 
intermediate spaces between the turrets they got under 
the battlements, knowing they were not manned. The 
bearers of the ladders went first and applied them to the 
wall. Then twelve light-armed with only a dagger and 
a breastplate scaled, led by Ammeas the son of Chorse- 
bus, who was the first that mounted. His followers, in 
two parties of six each, mounted next on each side of the 
turrets. Then others Hght-armed with javelins succeeded 
them. Behind came others holding the bucklers of those 
above them, thus to facilitate their ascent, and to be 
ready to deliver them into their hands, should they be 
obliged to charge. When the greater part of the number 
was mounted, the watchmen within the turrets perceived 
it. For one of the Plataeans, in fastening his hold, had 
thrown down a tile from off the battlements, which 
made a noise in the fall ; and immediately was shouted an 
alarm. The whole camp came running towards the wall, 
yet unable to discover the reason of this alarm, so 
dark was the night and violent the storm. At this crisis 
the Plateaus, who were left behind in the city, sallied 

51 



THE BOYS' BOOK OF BATTLES 

forth and assaulted the work of the Peloponnesians, in 
the part opposite to that where their friends were at- 
tempting to pass, to divert from them as much as pos- 
sible the attention of the enemy. Great was the con- 
fusion of the enemy yet abiding in their posts, for not 
one durst leave his station to run to the place of alarm, 
but all were greatly perplexed to guess at its meaning. 
At last the body of three hundred, appointed for a re- 
serve of succor upon any emergency, marched without 
the work to the place of alarm. Now the lighted torches, 
denoting enemies, were held up towards Thebes. On 
the other side, the Platasans in the city held up at the 
same time from the wall many of these torches already 
prepared for this very purpose, that the signals given of 
the approach of foes might be mistaken by their enemies 
the Thebans, who judging the affair to be quite otherwise 
than it really was, might refrain from sending any succor, 
till their friends who had sallied might have effectuated 
their escape, and gained a place of security. 

In the mean time those of the Plataeans, who having 
mounted first, and by killing the guards had got posses- 
sion of the turrets on either hand, posted themselves 
there to secure the passage, and to prevent any manner 
of obstruction from thence. Applying further their lad- 
der to these turrets from the top of the wall, and causing 
many of their number to mount, those now upon the 
turrets kept off the enemies, running to obstruct them 
both above and below, by discharging their darts; 
whilst the majority, rearing many ladders at the same 
time, and throwing down the battlements, got clean 
over at the intermediate space between the turrets. 
Every one, in the order he got over to the outward 

52 



I 



THE SIEGE OF PLAT^A 

side, drew up upon the inner brink of the ditch, and 
from thence, with their darts and javeHns, kept off 
those who were flocking towards the work to hinder 
their passage. When all the rest were landed upon 
the outside of the work, those upon the turrets, com- 
ing down last of all and with difficulty, got also to the 
ditch. By this time the reserve of three hundred was 
come up to oppose them, by the light of torches. The 
Platseans by this means, being in the dark, had a clear 
view of them, and, from their stand upon the brink of the 
ditch aimed a shower of darts and Javelins at those 
parts of their bodies which had no armor. The Plataeans 
were all obscured, as the glimmering of lights made them 
less easy to be distinguished; so that the last of their 
body got the ditch, though not without great difficulty 
and toil. For the water in it was frozen, not into ice 
hard enough to bear, but into a watery congelation, the 
effect not of the northern but eastern blasts. The wind 
blowing hard had caused so much snow to fall that night 
that the water was swelled to a height not to be forded 
without some difficulty. However, the violence of the 
storm was the greatest furtherance of their escape. 

The pass over the ditch being thus completed, the 
Platasans went forwards in a body, and took the road to 
Thebes, leaving on their right the temple of Juno, built 
by Androcrates. They judged it would never be sup- 
posed that they had taken a route which led directly 
towards their enemies; and they saw at the same time 
the Peloponnesians pursuing with torches along the 
road to Athens, by Cythaeron and the Heads of the Oak. 
For six or seven stadia, they continued their route 
towards Thebes, but then turning short, they took the 

53 



THE BOY'S BOOK OF BATTLES 

road to the mountains by Erythrse and Hysiae; and 
having gained the mountain, two hundred and twelve 
of the number completed their escape to Athens. Some 
of them, indeed, turned back into the city, without once 
attempting to get over; and one archer was taken 
prisoner at the outward ditch. 

The Peloponnesians desisted from the fruitless pur- 
suit, and returned to their posts. But the Plataeans with- 
in the city, ignorant of the real event, and giving ear to 
the assurances of those who turned back, that "they are 
all to a man cut off," dispatched a herald, as soon as it 
was day, to demand a truce for the fetching off the dead; 
but learning hence the true state of the affair, they re- 
mained well satisfied. And in this manner these men 
of Platsea, by thus forcing a passage, wrought their own 
preservation. . . , 

The Plataeans, whose provisions were quite spent, and 
who could not possibly hold out any longer, were brought 
to a surrender in the following manner : — 

The enemy made an assault upon their wall, which 
they had not sufficient strength to repel. The Lace- 
daemonian general being thus convinced of their languid 
condition, was determined not to take the place by storm. 
In this he acted pursuant to orders sent him from Lace- 
daemon, with a view that whenever a peace should be 
concluded with the Lacedaemonians — one certain con- 
dition of which must be reciprocally to restore the places 
taken in the war — Plataea might not be included in the 
restitution, as having freely and without compulsion 
gone over to them. A herald is accordingly dispatched 
with this demand, "Whether they are willing volun- 
tarily to give up the city to the Lacedaemonians, and 

54 



THE SIEGE OF PLAT^A 

accept them for their judges who would punish only the 
guilty, and contrary to forms of justice not even one of 
those." The herald made this demand aloud. And the 
Plataeans, who were now reduced to excessive weakness, 
delivered up the city. 

The Peloponnesians suppHed the Plataeans with neces- 
sary sustenance for the space of a few days, till the five 
delegates arrived from Lacedasmon to preside at their 
trial. And yet, when these were actually come, no 
judicial process was formed against them. They only 
called them out, and put this short question to them — 
"Whether they had done any service to the Lacedagmons 
and their allies in the present war?" and upon their an- 
swering, ''No," led them aside, and slew them. Not one 
of the number did they exempt; so that in this massacre 
there perished of Plataeans not fewer than two hundred, 
and twenty-five Athenians who had been besieged in 
their company; and all the women were sold for slaves. 
The Thebans assigned the city, for the space of a year, 
to be the residence of certain Megareans, who had been 
driven from home in the rage of sedition, and to those 
surviving Plataeans who had been friends to the Theban 
interest. But afterwards they leveled it with the earth, 
rooted up its whole foundation, and near to Juno's tem- 
ple erected a spacious inn two hundred feet square, par- 
titioned within both above and below into a range of 
apartments. In this structure they made use of the roofs 
and doors that had belonged to the Plataeans, and of the 
other movables found within their houses ; of the brass 
and iron they made beds which they consecrated to 
Juno, in whose honor they also erected a fane of stone 
one hundred feet in diameter. The land, being confis- 

55 



THE BOYS' BOOK OF BATTLES 

cated to public use, was farmed out for ten years, and 
occupied by Thebans. So much, nay, so totally averse 
to the Plataeans were the Lacedsemonians become; and 
this, merely to gratify the Thebans, whom they regarded 
as well able to serve them in the war which was now on 
foot. And thus was the destruction of PlatEea completed 
in the ninety-third year of its alliance with Athens. 



HOW HANNIBAL MADE HIS WAY TO ITALY 

[218 B.C.] 
BY LIVY 

[The second Punic War broke out in 218 b.c. Hannibal, the 
Carthaginian general, determined to come down upon Rome 
from the north. To do this, he was obliged to cross the river 
Rhone, and then the Alps, The following account pictures 
his difficulties and how he overcame them. 

The Editor.] 

Hannibal, the other states being pacified by fear or 
bribes, had now come into the territory of the Volcae, a 
powerful nation. They, indeed, dwell on both sides of 
the Rhone: but doubting that the Carthaginians could 
be driven from the higher bank, in order that they might 
have the river as defense, having transported almost all 
their effects across the Rhone, they occupied in arms the 
farther bank of the river. Hannibal, by means of pres- 
ents, persuaded the other inhabitants of the riverside, 
and some even of the Volcae themselves, whom their 
homes had detained, to collect from every quarter and 
build ships; and they at the same time themselves de- 
sired that the army should be transported, and their 
country relieved, as soon as possible, from the vast mul- 
titude of men that burdened it. A great number, there- 
fore, of ships and boats rudely formed for the neighbor- 
ing passages, were collected together; and the Gauls, 
first beginning the plan, hollowed out some new ones 
from single trees; and then the soldiers themselves, at 

57 



THE BOYS' BOOK OF BATTLES 

once induced by the plenty of materials and the easi- 
ness of the work, hastily formed shapeless hulks, in which 
they could transport themselves and their baggage, car- 
ing about nothing else, provided they could float and 
contain their burden. 

And now, when all things were sufficiently prepared 
for crossing, the enemy over against them occupying the 
whole bank, horse and foot, deterred them. In order 
to dislodge them, Hannibal orders Hanno, the son of 
Hamilcar, at the first watch of the night, to proceed with 
a part of the forces, principally Spanish, one day's jour- 
ney up the river ; and having crossed it where he might 
first be able, as secretly as possible, to lead round his 
forces, that when the occasion required, he might attack 
the enemy in the rear. The Gauls given him as guides 
for the purpose inform him that about twenty-five 
miles from thence, the river, spreading round a small 
island, broader where it was divided, and therefore with 
a shallower channel, presented a passage. At this place 
timber was quickly cut down and rafts formed, on which 
men, horses, and other burdens might be conveyed over. 
The Spaniards, without making any difficulty, having 
put their clothes in bags of leather, and themselves lean- 
ing on their bucklers placed beneath them, swam across 
the river. And the rest of the army, after passing on the 
rafts joined together, and pitching their camp near the 
river, being fatigued by the journey of the night and 
the labor of the work, are refreshed by the rest of one 
day, their leader being anxious to execute his design at a 
proper season. Setting out next day from this place, they 
signify by raising a smoke that they had crossed, and 
were not far distant; which when Hannibal understood, 

5S 



HOW HANNIBAL MADE HIS WAY TO ITALY 

that he might not be wanting on the opportunity, he 
gives the signal for passing. The infantry aheady had 
the boats prepared and fitted; a Hne of ships higher up 
transporting the horsemen for the most part near their 
horses swimming beside them, in order to break the 
force of the current, rendered the water smooth to the 
boats crossing below. A great part of the horses were 
led across swimming, held by bridles from the stern, ex- 
cept those which they put on board saddled and bridled, 
in order that they might be ready to be used by the rider 
the moment he disembarked on the strand. 

The Gauls ran down to the bank to meet them with 
various whoopings and songs, according to their custom, 
shaking their shields above their heads, and brandish- 
ing their weapons in their right hands, although such a 
multitude of ships in front of them alarmed them, to- 
gether with the loud roaring of the river, and the min- 
gled clamors of the sailors and soldiers, both those who 
were striving to break through the force of the current, 
and those who from the other bank were encouraging 
their comrades on their passage. While sufficiently dis- 
mayed by this tumult in front, more terrifying shouts 
from behind assailed them, their camp having been taken 
by Hanno; presently he himself came up, and a twofold 
terror encompassed them, both such a multitude of 
armed men landing from the ships, and this unexpected 
army pressing on their rear. When the Gauls, having 
made a prompt and bold effort to force the enemy, were 
themselves repulsed, they break through where a way 
seemed most open, and fly in consternation to their vil- 
lages around. Hannibal, now despising these tumultu- 
ary onsets of the Gauls, having transported the rest of 

59 



THE BOYS' BOOK OF BATTLES 

his forces at leisure, pitches his camp. I believe that 
there were various plans for transporting the elephants; 
at least there are various accounts of the way in which 
it was done. Some relate that after the elephants were 
assembled together on the bank, the fiercest of them 
being provoked by his keeper, pursued him as he swam 
across the water, to which he had run for refuge, and 
drew after him the rest of the herd; the mere force of 
the stream hurrying them to the other bank, when the 
bottom had failed each, fearful of the depth. But there 
is more reason to beHeve that they were conveyed across 
on rafts; which plan, as it must have appeared the safer 
before execution, is after it the more entitled to credit. 

Whilst the elephants were conveyed over, Hannibal, 
in the mean time, had sent five hundred Numidian horse- 
men towards the camp of the Romans, to observe 
where and how numerous their forces were, and what 
they were designing. The three hundred Roman horse- 
men sent, as was before said, from the mouth of the 
Rhone, meet this band of cavalry; and a more furious 
engagement than could be expected from the number 
of the combatants takes place. For, besides many 
wounds, the loss on both sides was also nearly equal; 
and the flight and dismay of the Numidians gave vic- 
tory to the Romans, now exceedingly fatigued. There 
fell of the conquerors one hundred and sixty, not all 
Romans, but partly Gauls: of the vanquished more 
than two hundred. This commencement, and at the 
same time omen of the war, as it portended to the Ro- 
mans a prosperous issue of the whole, so did it also the 
success of a doubtful and by no means bloodless contest. 

60 



HANNIBAL CROSSING THE RHONE 



HOW HANNIBAL MADE HIS WAY TO ITALY 

When;, after the action had thus occurred, his own men 
returned to each general, Scipio could adopt no fixed 
plan of proceeding, except that he should form his 
measures from the plans and undertakings of the enemy; 
and Hannibal, uncertain whether he should pursue the 
march he had commenced into Italy, or fight with the 
Roman army which had first presented itself, the arrival 
of ambassadors from the Boii, and of a petty prince 
called Magalus, diverted from an immediate engage- 
ment; who, declaring that they would be the guides of 
his journey and the companions of his dangers, gave it 
as their opinion, that Italy ought to be attacked with the 
entire force of the war, his strength having been nowhere 
previously impaired. The troops indeed feared the 
enemy, the remembrance of the former war not being 
yet obliterated; but much more did they dread the im- 
mense journey and the Alps, a thing formidable by re- 
port, particularly to the inexperienced. 

Hannibal, therefore, when his own resolution was 
fixed to proceed in his course in advance on Italy, hav- 
ing summoned an assembly, works upon the minds of 
the soldiers in various ways, by reproof and exhortation. 
He said that he wondered what sudden fear had seized 
breasts ever before undismayed: that through so many 
years they had made their campaigns with conquest; nor 
had departed from Spain before all the nations and 
countries which two opposite seas embrace were sub- 
jected to the Carthaginians. That then, indignant that 
the Romans demanded those, whosoever had besieged 
Saguntum, to be delivered up to them, as on account of 
a crime, they had passed the Iberus to blot out the name 
of the Romans, and to emancipate the world. That 

6i 



THE BOYS' BOOK OF BATTLES 

then the way seemed long to no one, though they 
were pursuing it from the setting to the rising of the sun. 
That now, when they saw by far the greater part of the 
journey accomphshed, the passes of the Pyrenees sur- 
mounted, amid the most ferocious nations, the Rhone, 
that mighty river, crossed, in spite of the opposition of 
so many thousand Gauls, the fury of the river itself hav- 
ing been overcome, when they had the Alps in sight, the 
other side of which was Italy, should they halt through 
weariness at the very gates of the enemy, imagining the 
Alps to be — what else than lofty mountains? That 
supposing them to be higher than the summits of the 
Pyrenees, assuredly no part of the earth reached the sky, 
nor was insurmountable by mankind. The Alps in fact 
were inhabited and cultivated, — produced and sup- 
ported living beings. Were they passable by a few men 
and impassable to armies? That those very ambassa- 
dors whom they saw before them had not crossed the 
Alps borne aloft through the air on wings; neither were 
their ancestors indeed natives of the soil, but settling 
Italy from foreign countries, had often as emigrants 
safely crossed these very Alps in immense bodies, with 
their wives and children. To the armed soldier, carrying 
nothing with him but the instruments of war, what in 
reality was impervious or insurmountable? That Sa- 
guntum might be taken, what dangers, what toils were 
for eight months undergone ! Now, when their aim was 
Rome, the capital of the world, could anything appear 
so dangerous or difficult as to delay their undertaking? 
That the Gauls had formerly gained possession of that 
very country which the Carthaginians despair of being 
able to approach. That they must, therefore, either 

62 



HOW HANNIBAL MADE HIS WAY TO ITALY 

yield in spirit and valor to that nation which they had 
so often during those times overcome; or look forward, as 
the end of their journey, to the plain which spreads be- 
tween the Tiber and the walls of Rome. 

He orders them, roused by these exhortations, to re- 
fresh themselves and prepare for the journey. Next day, 
proceeding upward along the bank of the Rhone, he 
makes for the inland part of Gaul: not because it was 
the more direct route to the Alps, but believing that the 
farther he retired from the sea, the Romans would be 
less in his way; with whom, before he arrived in Italy, 
he had no intention of engaging. After four days' march 
he came to the Island : there the streams of the Aar and 
the Rhone, flowing down from different branches of the 
Alps, after embracing a pretty large tract of country, 
flow into one. The name of the Island is given to the 
plains that lie between them. The Allobroges dwell near, 
a nation even in those days inferior to none in Gaul in 
power and fame. They were at that time at variance. 
Two brothers were contending for the sovereignty. The 
elder, named Brancus, who had before been king, was 
driven out by his younger brother and a party of the 
younger men, who, inferior in right, had more of power. 
When the decision of this quarrel was most opportunely 
referred to Hannibal, being appointed arbitrator of the 
kingdom, he restored the sovereignty to the elder, be- 
cause such had been the opinion of the Senate and the 
chief men. In return for this service, he was assisted 
with a supply of provisions, and plenty of all necessaries, 
particularly clothing, which the Alps, notorious for ex- 
treme cold, rendered necessary to be prepared. After 
composing the dissensions of the Allobroges, when he 

63 



THE BOYS' BOOK OF BATTLES 

now was proceeding to the Alps, he directed his course 
thither, not by the straight road, but turned to the left 
into the country of the Tricastini, thence by the ex- 
treme boundary of the territory of the Vocontii he pro- 
ceeded to the Tricorii; his way not being anywhere ob- 
structed till he came to the river Druentia. This stream, 
also arising amid the Alps, is by far the most difficult to 
pass of all the rivers in Gaul; for though it rolls down 
an immense body of water, yet it does not admit of ships; 
because, being restrained by no banks, and flowing in 
several and not always the same channels, and continu- 
ally forming new shallows and new whirlpools (on which 
account the passage is also uncertain to a person on foot), 
and roHing down, besides, gravelly stones, it affords no 
firm or safe passage to those who enter it; and having 
been at that time swollen by showers, it created great 
disorder among the soldiers as they crossed, when, in ad- 
dition to other difficulties, they were of themselves con- 
fused by their own hurry and uncertain shouts. 

Pubhus Cornelius the consul, about three days after 
Hannibal moved from the bank of the Rhone, had come 
to the camp of the enemy, with his army drawn up in 
square, intending to make no delay in fighting : but when 
he saw the fortifications deserted, and that he could not 
easily come up with them so far in advance before him, 
he returned to the sea and his fleet, in order more easily 
and safely to encounter Hannibal when descending from 
the Alps. But that Spain, the province which he had 
obtained by lot, might not be destitute of Roman auxil- 
iaries, he sent his brother Cneius Scipio with the princi- 
pal part of his forces against Hasdrubal, not only to de- 
fend the old aUies and conciliate new, but also to drive 

64 



HOW HANNIBAL MADE HIS WAY TO ITALY 

Hasdrubal out of Spain. He himself, with a very small 
force, returned to Genoa, intending to defend Italy with 
the army which was around the Po. From the Druentia, 
by a road that lay principally through plains, Hannibal 
arrived at the Alps without molestation from the Gauls 
that inhabit those regions. Then, though the scene had 
been previously anticipated from report (by which un- 
certainties are wont to be exaggerated), yet the height 
of the mountains when viewed so near, and the snows 
almost mingling with the sky, the shapeless huts situ- 
ated on the chffs, the cattle and beasts of burden with- 
ered by the cold, the men unshorn and wildly dressed, 
all things, animate and inanimate, stiffened with frost, 
and other objects more terrible to be seen than described, 
renewed their alarm. To them, marching up the first 
acclivities, the mountaineers appeared occupying the 
heights overhead; who, if they had occupied the more 
concealed valleys, might, by rushing out suddenly to the 
attack, have occasioned great flight and havoc. Hanni- 
bal orders them to halt, and having sent forward Gauls 
to view the ground, when he found there was no passage 
that way, he pitches his camp in the wildest valley he 
could find, among places all rugged and precipitous. 
Then, having learned from the same Gauls, when they 
had mixed in conversation with the mountaineers, from 
whom they differed little in language and manners, that 
the pass was only beset during the day, and that at night 
each withdrew to his own dwelling, he advanced at the 
dawn to the heights, as if designing openly and by day 
to force his way through the defile. The day then being 
passed in feigning a different attempt from that which 
was in preparation, when they had fortified the camp in 

6S 



THE BOYS' BOOK OF BATTLES 

the same place where they had halted, as soon as he per- 
ceived that the mountaineers had descended from the 
heights, and that the guards were withdrawn, having 
Hghted for show a greater number of fires than was pro- 
portioned to the number that remained, and having left 
the baggage in the camp, with the cavalry and the prin- 
cipal part of the infantry, he himself with a party of light- 
armed, consisting of all the most courageous of his 
troops, rapidly cleared the defile, and took post on those 
very heights which the enemy had occupied. 

At dawn of fight the next day the camp broke up, and 
the rest of the army began to move forward. The moun- 
taineers, on a signal being given, were now assembling 
from their forts to their usual station, when they sud- 
denly beheld part of the enemy overhanging them 
from above, in possession of their fonner position, and 
the others passing along the road. Both these objects, 
presented at the same time to the eye and the mind, 
made them stand motionless for a little while ; but when 
they afterwards saw the confusion in the pass, and that 
the marching body was thrown into disorder by the 
tumult which itself created, principally from the horses 
being terrified, thinking that whatever terror they added 
would suffice for the destruction of the enemy, they 
scramble along the dangerous rocks, as being accus- 
tomed alike to pathless and circuitous ways. Then, in- 
deed, the Carthaginians were opposed at once by the 
enemy and by the difficulties of the ground; and each 
striving to escape first from the danger, there was more 
fighting among themselves than with their opponents. 
The horses in particular created danger in the lines, 
which, being terrified by the discordant clamors which 

66 



HOW HANNIBAL MADE HIS WAY TO ITALY 

the groves and reechoing valleys augmented, fell into 
confusion; and if by chance struck or wounded, they 
were so dismayed that they occasioned a great loss both 
of men and baggage of every description : and as the pass 
on both sides was broken and precipitous, this tumult 
threw many down to an immense depth, some even 
of the armed men; but the beasts of burden, with their 
loads, were rolled down Eke the fall of some vast fabric. 
Though these disasters were shocking to view, Hanni- 
bal, however, kept his place for a little, and kept his 
men together, lest he might augment the tumult and dis- 
order; but afterwards, when he saw the line broken and 
that there was danger that he should bring over his 
army, preserved to no purpose if deprived of their bag- 
gage, he hastened down from the higher ground; and 
though he had routed the enemy by the first onset alone, 
he at the same time increased the disorder in his own 
army: but that tumult was composed in a moment, 
after the roads were cleared by the flight of the moun- 
taineers; and presently the whole army was conducted 
through, not only without being disturbed, but almost 
in silence. He then took a fortified place, which was the 
capital of that district, and the little villages that lay 
around it, and fed his army for three days with the corn 
and cattle he had taken; and during these three days, as 
the soldiers were neither obstructed by the mountain- 
eers, who had been daunted by the first engagement, 
nor yet much by the ground, he made considerable way. 
He then came to another state, abounding, for a 
mountainous country, with inhabitants; where he was 
nearly overcome, not by open war, but by his own arts 
of treachery and ambuscade. Some old men, governors 

67 



THE BOYS' BOOK OF BATTLES 

of forts, came as deputies to the Carthaginian, profess- 
ing, "that having been warned by the useful example 
of the calamities of others, they wished rather to expe- 
rience the friendship than the hostihties of the Cartha- 
ginians: they would, therefore, obediently execute his 
commands, and begged that he would accept of a supply 
of provisions, guides of his march, and hostages for the 
sincerity of their promises." Hannibal, when he had an- 
swered them in a friendly manner, thinking that they 
should neither be rashly trusted nor yet rejected, lest if 
repulsed they might become enemies, having received 
the hostages whom they proffered, and made use of the 
provisions which they of their own accord brought down 
to the road, follows their guides, by no means as among 
a people with whom he was at peace, but with his line 
of march in close order. The elephants and cavalry 
formed the van of the marching body; he himself, exam- 
ining everything around, and intent on every circum- 
stance, followed with the choicest of the infantry. When 
they came into a narrower pass, lying on one side be- 
neath an overhanging eminence, the barbarians, rising 
at once on all sides from their ambush, assail them in 
front and rear, both at close quarters, and from a dis- 
tance, and roll down huge stones on the army. The 
most numerous body of men pressed on the rear ; against 
whom the infantry, facing about and directing their 
attack, made it very obvious that had not the rear 
of the army been well supported, a great loss must have 
been sustained in that pass. Even as it was they came 
to the extremity of danger, and almost to destruction: 
for while Hannibal hesitates to lead down his division 
into the defile, because, though he himself was a protec- 

68 



HOW HANNIBAL MADE HIS WAY TO ITALY 

tion to the cavalry, he had not in the same way left any 
aid to the infantry in the rear; the mountaineers, charg- 
ing obHquely, and on having broken through the middle 
of the army, took possession of the road ; and one night 
was spent by Hannibal without his cavalry and baggage. 
Next day, the barbarians running in to the attack 
between [the two divisions] less vigorously, the forces 
were reunited, and the defile passed, not without loss, 
but yet with a greater destruction of beasts of burden 
than of men. From that time the mountaineers fell 
upon them in smaller parties, more like an attack of 
robbers than war, sometimes on the van, sometimes on 
the rear, according as the ground afforded them advan- 
tage, or stragglers advancing or loitering gave them an 
opportunity. Though the elephants were driven through 
steep and narrow roads with great loss of time, yet 
wherever they went they rendered the army safe from 
the enemy, because men unacquainted with such ani- 
mals were afraid of approaching too nearly. On the 
ninth day they came to a summit of the Alps, chiefly 
through places trackless; and after many mistakes of 
their way, which were caused either by the treachery of 
the guides, or, when they were not trusted, by entering 
valleys at random, on their own conjectures of the route. 
For two days they remained encamped on the summit; 
and rest was given to the soldiers, exhausted with toil 
and fighting: and several beasts of burden, which had 
fallen down among the rocks, by following the track of 
the army arrived at the camp. A fall of snow, it being 
now the season for the setting of the constellation of the 
Pleiades, caused great fear to the soldiers, already worn 
out with weariness of so many hardships. On the stand- 

69 



THE BOYS' BOOK OF BATTLES 

ards being moved forward at daybreak, when the army 
proceeded slowly over all places entirely blocked up 
with snow, and languor and despair strongly appeared 
in the countenances of all, Hannibal, having advanced 
before the standards, and ordered the soldiers to halt on 
a certain eminence, whence there was a prospect far and 
wide, points out to them Italy and the plains of the Po, 
extending themselves beneath the Alpine mountains; 
and said, "that they were now surmounting not only the 
ramparts of Italy, but also of the city of Rome; that the 
rest of the journey would be smooth and down-hill ; that 
after one, or, at most, a second battle, they would have 
the citadel and capital of Italy in their own power and 
possession." The army then began to advance, the 
enemy now making no attempts beyond petty thefts, 
as opportunity offered. But the journey proved much 
more difficult than it had been in the ascent, as the de- 
clivity of the Alps being generally shorter on the side of 
Italy is consequently steeper; for nearly all the road was 
precipitous, narrow, and slippery, so that neither those 
who made the least stumble could prevent themselves 
from falling, nor, when fallen, remain in the same place, 
but rolled, both men and beasts of burden, one upon 
another. 

They then came to a rock much more narrow, and 
formed of such perpendicular ledges, that a light-armed 
soldier, carefully making the attempt, and clinging with 
his hands to the bushes and roots around, could with 
difficulty lower himself. The ground, even before very 
steep by nature, had been broken by a recent falling 
away of the earth into a precipice of nearly a thou- 
sand feet in depth. Here when the cavalry had halted, 

70 



HOW HANNIBAL MADE HIS WAY TO ITALY 

as if at the end of their journey, it is announced to Han- 
nibal, wondering what obstructed the march, that the 
rock was impassable. Having then gone himself to view 
the place, it seemed clear to him that he must lead his 
army round it, by however great a circuit, through the 
pathless and untrodden regions around. But this route 
also proved impracticable; for while the new snow of 
a moderate depth remained on the old, which had not 
been removed, their footsteps were planted with ease as 
they walked upon the new snow, which was soft and not 
too deep; but when it was dissolved by the trampling of 
so many men and beasts of burden, they then walked 
on the bare ice below, and through the dirty fluid formed 
by the melting snow. Here there was a wretched strug- 
gle, both on account of the slippery ice not affording any 
hold to the step, and giving way beneath the foot more 
readily by reason of the slope; and whether they as- 
sisted themselves in rising by their hands or their knees, 
their supports themselves giving way, they would tum- 
ble again; nor were there any stumps or roots near, by 
pressing against which, one might with hand or foot sup- 
port himself; so that they only floundered on the smooth 
ice and amid the melted snow. The beasts of burden 
sometimes also cut into this lower ice by merely tread- 
ing upon it; at others they broke it completely through, 
by the violence with which they struck in their hoofs in 
their struggling, so that most of them, as if taken in a 
trap, stuck in the hardened and deeply frozen ice. 

At length, after the men and beasts of burden had 
been fatigued to no purpose, the camp was pitched on 
the summit, the ground being cleared for that purpose 
with great difi&culty, so much snow was there to be dug 

71 



THE BOYS' BOOK OF BATTLES 

out and carried away. The soldiers being then set to 
make a way down the cliff, by which alone a passage 
could be effected, and it being necessary that they 
should cut through the rocks, having felled and lopped 
a number of large trees which grew around, they make 
a huge pile of timber; and as soon as a strong wind fit 
for exciting the flames arose, they set fire to it, and, 
pouring vinegar on the heated stones, they render them 
soft and crumbling. They then open a way with iron in- 
struments through the rock thus heated by the fire, and 
soften its declivities by gentle windings, so that not only 
the beasts of burden, but also the elephants could be led 
down it. Four days were spent about this rock, the 
beasts nearly perishing through hunger: for the sum- 
mits of the mountains are for the most part bare, and if 
there is any pasture the snows bury it. The lower parts 
contain valleys, and some sunny hills, and rivulets flow- 
ing beside woods, and scenes m.ore worthy of the abode 
of man. There the beasts of burden were sent out to 
pasture, and rest given for three days to the men, fa- 
tigued with forming the passage; they then descended 
into the plains, the country and the dispositions of the 
inhabitants being now less rugged. 



JULIUS C^SAR IN GAUL 

BY T. RICE HOLMES 

I 

A BATTLE WITH THE GERMANS 
[58 B.C.] 

[The Helvetians of Switzerland left their homes for the 
wider and more fertile fields of Gaul; but were overcome 
and driven back by Julius Caesar. Many of the Gallic chiefs 
came to congratulate the conqueror. Among them were cer- 
tain leaders of the iEduans, who now appealed to him for aid. 
The Sequani, they said, had asked the German tribes called 
Suevi to come and help them against the ^duans. The 
Suevi, or Suebi, had come and had conquered both iEduans 
and Sequani. Ariovistus, the Suevi leader, was a blood- 
thirsty tyrant, and was treating them with the utmost 
cruelty. Would not the great commander Julius Cagsar free 
them from his abuse? Caesar was more than ready to grant 
their request. The yEduans were allies of the Romans, and 
therefore he was bound to give help. Moreover, if the 
Germans should overrun Gaul, their next step would be 
into Italy. It was absolutely necessary for him to suppress 
Ariovistus. An interesting point of this selection is that the 
scene is laid in a region that is again [19 14] witnessing the 
conflict of Teuton and Gaul. 

The Editor.] 

At the hour of the night on which he had fixed, Caesar 
struck his camp. He left a detachment to hold Vesontio. 
Before him all was unknown: but he had full faith in 
Diviciacus; and Diviciacus undertook to be his guide. 
To avoid the broken wooded country between Besangon 
and Montbeliard, he made a circuit northward and 

73 



THE BOYS' BOOK OF BATTLES 

eastward, of about fifty miles, and then, threading the 
pass of Belfort, debouched into the plain of the Rhine, 
and pushed on rapidly past the eastern slopes of the 
Vosges till he reached a point within twenty-two miles 
of the German encampment. He has not told us where 
he formed his own camp: probably it was on the river 
Fecht, between Ostheim and Gemar. 

On the same day Ariovistus marched southward, and 
halted about six miles north of Caesar's camp, at the 
very foot of the Vosges. He had conceived a daring 
plan. Next morning his column ascended the lower 
slopes, marched securely along them past the Roman 
army, and took up a position two miles south of Caesar's 
camp. As he looked up at the huge column winding 
leisurely by, Caesar saw that he was being outmaneu- 
vered: to send the legions up the hillside would be to 
court destruction, and he could only wait, a passive 
spectator, while Ariovistus was cutting his communi- 
cations and barring up the road by which he expected 
his supplies. 

Next day Caesar formed up his army immediately in 
front of the camp, under the protection of his artillery. 
Ariovistus might attack if he liked: but if he attacked, 
it would be at his peril; if he declined the challenge, the 
legionaries would be assured that the Germans were 
not invincible. Ariovistus remained where he was. On 
each of the four following days Caesar offered battle; but 
the enemy would not be provoked into leaving their 
camp. Cavalry skirmishes indeed took place daily, but 
without any decisive results. The Germans had light- 
armed active footmen, who accompanied the cavalry 
into action, each one of them selected by the rider 

74 



JULIUS C^SAR IN GAUL 

whom he attended: they were trained to run by the 
horses' sides, holding on to their manes; and if the troop- 
ers were forced to retreat, they supported them and 
protected the wounded. As the infantry remained obsti- 
nately in their camp, and it was necessary for Cassar to 
win back communication with his convoys, he resolved 
to take the initiative. Forming his legions in three par- 
allel columns, prepared, at a moment's notice, to face 
into line of battle, he marched back to a point about 
a thousand yards south of Ariovistus's position, and 
there marked out a site for a camp. One column fell 
to work with their spades, while the other two formed 
in two lines to protect them. Ariovistus sent a detach- 
ment to stop the work ; but it was too late : the fighting 
legions kept their assailants at bay, and the camp was 
made. Two legions with a corps of auxiliaries were left 
to hold it; and the other four returned to the larger 
camp. Next day Caesar led his men into the open, but 
not far from his camp, and again offered battle. Ario- 
vistus again declined the challenge; but, as soon as 
the legions had returned to their intrenchments, he 
made a determined effort to storm the smaller camp, 
and only drew off his forces at sunset. The Romans had 
suffered as heavily as the Germans; but Csesar now 
learned from prisoners that the enemy had been warned 
by their wise women, whose divinations they accepted 
with superstitious awe, that they could not gain the 
victory unless they postponed the battle until after the 
new moon. 

Cassar saw his opportunity. He waited till the follow- 
ing morning; and then, leaving detachments to guard 
his two camps, he formed his six legions, as usual, in 

75 



THE BOYS' BOOK OF BATTLES 

three lines, and marched against the enemy. They had 
no choice but to defend themselves. Their wagons stood 
in a huge semicircle, closing their flanks and rear; and, 
as they tramped out, their women stretched out their 
hands and piteously begged them not to suffer their 
wives to be made slaves. The host was formed in seven 
distinct groups, each composed of the warriors of a sin- 
gle tribe. As the Romans were numerically weaker than 
their opponents, the auxiliaries were drawn up in front 
of the smaller camp, to make a show of strength. Each 
of the legaii was placed at the head of a legion, in order 
that every one might feel that his courage in action 
would not be overlooked. Caesar comm.anded the right 
wing in person, and, noticing that the enemy's left was 
comparatively weak, directed against it his principal 
attack, in the hope of overwhelming it speedily and thus 
disconcerting the rest of the force. But before the Ro- 
mans in the front ranks could poise their javelins, the 
Germans were upon them; and they had barely a mo- 
ment to draw their swords. Quickly stiffening into com- 
pact masses, the Germans locked their shields to receive 
the thrusts: but some of the Romans flung themselves 
right on to the phalanxes; they tore the shields from 
the grasp of their foes, and dug their swords down into 
them; and, after a close struggle, they broke the forma- 
tion, and their weapons got freer play. The unwieldy 
masses, unable to maneuver or to deploy, reeled back- 
ward, dissolved, and fled. But the Roman left, overpow- 
ered by numbers, was giving ground. Young Publius 
Crassus, son of the celebrated triumvir, who was sta- 
tioned in command of the cavalry, outside the battle, 
saw the crisis, and promptly sent the third hne to the 

76 



JULIUS C^SAR IN GAUL 

rescue. The victory was won, and the whole beaten 
multitude fled towards the Rhine. But the Rhine was 
some iifteen miles away; the 111 had first to be crossed;, 
and in that weary flight many fell under the lances. 
of the cavalry. 

II 

BESIEGING A ROMAN CAMP 
[S4 B.C.] 

[Whenever a Roman army made a halt, if for only one 
night, their camp was always carefully fortified with trench, 
rampart, and palisade. It was such a camp as this that was 
attacked by Ambiorix, He had been successful in a previ- 
ous engagement, and now he induced the Atuatuci and the 
Nervii to join him in another venture. The Roman leader, 
Quintus Cicero, was a brother of the orator Cicero. 

In substance, these accounts are taken from the narrative 
of Caesar. 

The Editor] 

Ambiorix told the chiefs exultingly of his success. Here 
was such a chance as they might never have again. 
Cicero's camp was close by. Why should they not do as 
he had done, — swoop down upon the solitary legion, 
win back their independence for good, and take a 
glorious revenge upon their persecutors? The chiefs 
caught at the suggestion. The small tribes that owned 
their sway flocked to join them: the Eburones, flushed 
with victory, were there to help ; and the united host set 
out with eager confidence for the Roman camp. Their 
horsemen, hurrying on ahead, cut off a party of soldiers 
who were felling wood. Not the faintest rumor of the 
late disaster had reached Cicero; and the Gallic hordes 
burst upon him like a bolt from the sky. Their first on- 

77 



THE BOYS' BOOK OF BATTLES 

slaught was so violent that even the disciplined courage 
of the Romans barely averted destruction. Messengers 
were instantly dispatched to carry the news to Caesar; 
and Cicero promised to reward them well if they should 
succeed in delivering his letters. Working all night with 
incessant energy, the legionaries erected a large number 
of wooden towers on the rampart, and made good the 
defects in the fortifications. The Gauls, who meanwhile 
had been strongly reinforced, returned in the morning 
to the attack. They succeeded in filling up the trench; 
but the garrison still managed to keep them at bay. 

Day after day the siege continued; and night after 
jiight and all night long the Romans toiled to make 
ready for the morrow's struggle. The towers were fur- 
nished with stories and embattled breastworks of wattle- 
ivork: sharp stakes, burnt and hardened at the ends, 
were prepared for hurling at the besiegers, and huge 
pikes for stopping their rush if they should attempt an 
assault. Even the sick and the wounded had to lend a 
hand. Cicero himself was in poor health, but he worked 
night and day; and it was not till the men gathered 
round him and insisted on his sparing himself, that he 
would take a Httle rest. His complaints, his Epicurean 
studies, his abortive tragedies were forgotten; he remem- 
bered only that he was a Roman general. Meanwhile 
the Nervian leaders, who had expected an easy triumph, 
were becoming impatient. They asked Cicero to grant 
them an interview. Some of them knew him person- 
ally; and they doubtless hoped that he would prove 
compliant. They assailed him with the same arguments 
that Ambiorix had found so successful with Sabinus. 
They tried to frighten him by describing the massacre 

78 



JULIUS C^SAR IN GAUL 

at Atuatuca, and assured him that it was idle to hope 
for relief. But they would not be hard upon him. All 
that they wanted was to stop the inveterate custom of 
quartering the legions for the winter in Gaul. If he and 
his army would only go, they might go in peace whither- 
soever they pleased. Cicero calmly replied that Romans 
never accepted terms from an armed enemy. They 
must first lay down their arms : then he would intercede 
for them with Caesar; Caesar was always just, and 
would doubtless grant their petition. 

Disappointed though they were, the Gauls were not 
disheartened. They determined to invest the camp in a 
scientific manner. From the experience of past cam- 
paigns they had got a rough idea of the nature of Roman 
siege works; and now, with the quickness of their race, 
they proceeded to imitate them. Some prisoners who 
had fallen into their hands gave them hints. Having no 
proper tools, they were obhged to cut the turf with their 
swords, and to use their hands and even their cloaks in 
piling the sod; but the workers swarmed in such prodi- 
gious numbers that in three hours they had thrown up a 
rampart, ten feet high and nearly three miles in extent. 
They then proceeded, under the guidance of the pris- 
oners, to erect towers, and to make sappers' huts, lad- 
ders, and poles fitted with hooks for tearing down the 
rampart of the camp. The huts, which were intended 
to protect the men who had to fill up the trench and 
demohsh the rampart, were partially closed in front, 
and had sloping roofs, built of strong timbers, so as to 
resist the crash of any stones which might be pitched on 
to them, and were probably covered with clay and raw- 
hides, as a protection against fire. On the seventh day 

79 



THE BOYS' BOOK OF BATTLES 

of the siege there was a great gale. The besiegers took 
advantage of it to fling blazing darts and white-hot balls 
of clay, which lighted on the straw thatch of the men's 
huts; and the wind-swept flames flew all over the in- 
closure. With a yell of exultation, the enemy wheeled 
forward their towers and huts, and planted their lad- 
ders : in another moment they were swarming up : but 
all along the rampart, their dark figures outlined against 
the fiery background, the Romans were standing ready 
to hurl them down: harassed by showers of missiles, half 
scorched by the fierce heat, regardless of the havoc that 
the flames were making in their property, every man of 
them stood firm; and hardly one so much as looked be- 
hind. Their losses were heavier than on any previous 
day. The Gauls, too, went down in scores; for those 
in front could not retreat because of the masses that 
pressed upon them from behind. In one spot a tower 
was wheeled right up to the rampart. The centurions 
of the Third Cohort coolly withdrew their men, and 
with voice and gesture dared the Gauls to come on : but 
none dared to stir a step: a shower of stones sent them 
flying; and the deserted tower was set on fire. Every- 
where the result was the same. The assailants were the 
bravest of the Gauls: of death they had no fear: but 
they had not the heart to hurl themselves upon that 
living wall; and, leaving their slain in heaps, they sul- 
lenly withdrew. 

Still the siege went on; and to the wearied and weak- 
ened legion its trials daily increased. Letters for Caesar 
were sent out in more and more rapid succession. Some 
of the messengers were caught in sight of the garrison, 
and tortured to death. There was, however, in the 

80 



JULIUS C^SAR IN GAUL 

camp a Nervian named Vertico, who, just before the 
siege, had thrown himself upon the protection of Cicero, 
and had been steadfastly true to him. By lavish prom- 
ises he induced one of his slaves to face the dangers 
which to the Roman messengers had proved fatal. The 
letter which he had to carry was fastened to a javelin 
and concealed by the lashing. He passed his country- 
men unnoticed, made his way safely to Samarobriva, 
and delivered his dispatch. None of the other messen- 
gers had arrived; and so close was the sympathy be- 
tween the peasants and the insurgents that Csesar had 
not heard a rumor of the siege. . . . 

Everything now depended upon speed. Passing 
through the Nervian territory, Caesar learned from some 
peasants who fell into his hands that Cicero's situation 
was all but desperate: immediately he wrote a letter 
in Greek characters assuring him of speedy relief, and 
offered one of his Gallic horsemen a large reward to de- 
liver it. He told him, in case he should not be able to 
get into the camp, to tie the letter to the thong of a 
javelin and throw it inside. Dreading the risk of appre- 
hension, the man did as Csesar had directed; but the 
javelin stuck in one of the towers, and remained unno- 
ticed for two days. A soldier then found it and took it to 
Cicero, who read the letter to his exhausted troops. As 
they gazed over the rampart, they saw clouds of smoke 
floating far away over the west horizon, and knew that 
Cassar was approaching and taking vengeance as he 
came. 

That night Caesar received a dispatch from Cicero, 
warning him that the Gauls had raised the siege, and 
had gone off to intercept him. Notwithstanding their 

8i 



THE BOYS' BOOK OF BATTLES 

heavy losses, they numbered, it was said, some sixty 
thousand men. Ceesar made known the contents of the 
dispatch to the troops, and encouraged them to nerve 
themselves for the approaching struggle. A short march 
in the early morning brought the legions to a rivulet, 
running through a broad valley, beyond which the 
enemy were encamped. Caesar had no intention of 
fighting a battle against such heavy odds on unfavorable 
ground. Cicero was in no danger ; and he was therefore 
not pressed for time. He sent out scouts to look for a 
convenient place to cross the river. Meanwhile he 
marked out his camp on a slope, and constructed it on 
the smallest possible scale in the hope of seducing the 
enemy to attack him. But the enemy were expecting 
reinforcements, and remained where they were. At 
dawn their horsemen ventured across the river, and 
attacked Caesar's cavalry, who promptly retreated in 
obedience to orders. Sitting on their horses, the Gauls 
could see inside the camp. An attempt was apparently 
being made to increase the height of the rampart, and to 
block the gateways. There was every appearance of 
panic. Caesar had told his men what to do; and they 
were hurrying about the camp with a pretense of nerv- 
ous trepidation. The enemy hesitated no longer; and 
in a short time they were all across the stream. They 
had to attack uphill; but that mattered nothing against 
such craven adversaries. Not even a sentry was stand- 
ing on the rampart. Criers were sent round the camp to 
say that if any man cared to come out and join the 
Gauls, he would be welcome, — till eight o'clock. The 
gates looked too strong to be forced, though there was 
really only a mock barricade of sods, which could be 

82 



JULIUS CESAR IN GAUL 

knocked over in a moment. The Gauls walked right up 
to the ditch, and began coolly filling it up, and actually 
tearing down the rampart with their hands, — when 
from right and left and front the cohorts charged : there 
was a thunder of hoofs; and reeling backward in amaze- 
ment before a rush of cavalry, they flung away their 
arms and fled. 

Caesar prudently stopped the pursuit, lest his troops 
should become entangled in the outlying woods and 
marches; but about three o'clock that afternoon the 
legions reached Cicero's camp without the loss of a man. 
With keen interest Csesar asked for details of the siege, 
and gazed with admiring wonder at the enemy's de- 
serted works. When the legion was paraded, he found 
that not one man in ten was unwounded. Turning to 
Cicero, he heartily thanked him for the magnificent 
stand which he had made, and then, calling out, one by 
one, the officers whom he mentioned as having shown 
especial bravery, he addressed to them a few words of 
praise. 



A VIKING SEA FIGHT 

FROM THE HEIMSKRINGLA 

The Danish king, Svend Forked Beard, was married 
to Sigrid the Haughty. Sigrid was King Olaf Trygg- 
vason's greatest enemy; the cause of which was that 
King Olaf had broken off with her, and had struck her 
in the face. She urged King Svend much to give battle 
to King Olaf Tryggvason; saying that he had reason 
enough, as Olaf had married his sister Thyri without his 
leave, ''and that your predecessors would not have 
submitted to." Such persuasions Sigrid had often in 
her mouth; and at last she brought it so far that Svend 
resolved firmly on doing so. 

Early in spring King Svend sent messengers east- 
ward into Sweden, to his brother-in-law Olaf, the 
Swedish king, and to Earl Eric; and informed them that 
King Olaf of Norway was levying men for an expedi- 
tion, and intended in summer to go to Vendland. To 
this news the Danish king added an invitation to the 
Swedish king and Earl Eric to meet King Svend with 
an army, so that all together they might make an attack 
on King Olaf Tryggvason. 

The Swedish king and Earl Eric were ready enough 
for this, and immediately assembled a great fleet and 
an army through all Sweden, with which they sailed 
southwards to Denmark, and arrived there before King 

84 



A VIKING SEA FIGHT 

Olaf Tryggvason had sailed to the eastward. Haldor 
the Unchristian tells of this in his lay on Earl Eric : — 

"The king-subduer raised a host 
Of warriors on the Swedish coast. 
The brave went southwards to the fight, 
Who love the sword-storm's gleaming light; 
The brave, who fill the wild wolf's mouth, 
Followed bold Eric to the south; 
The brave, who sport in blood — each one 
With the bold earl to sea is gone." 

The Swedish king and Earl Eric sailed to meet the 
Danish king, and they had all when together an im- 
mense force. 

At the same time that Earl Svend sent a message to 
Sweden for an army, he sent Earl Sigvald to Vendland 
to spy out King Olaf Tryggvason's proceedings, and 
to bring it about by cunning devices that King Svend 
and King Olaf should fall in with each other. So Sigvald 
sets out to go to Vendland. First, he came to Jomsburg, 
and then he sought out King Olaf Tryggvason. There 
was much friendship in their conversation, and the earl 
got himself into great favor with the king. Astrid, the 
earl's wife. King Burislaf 's daughter, was a great friend 
of King Olaf Tryggvason, particularly on account of 
the connection which had been between them when 
Olaf was married to her sister Geira. 

Earl Sigvald was a prudent, ready-minded man ; and 
as he had got a voice in King Olaf 's council, he put him 
off much from sailing homewards, finding various rea- 
sons for delay. Olaf's people were in the highest degree 
dissatisfied with this; for the men were anxious to get 
home, and they lay ready to sail, waiting only for a 
wind. At last Earl Sigvald got a secret message from 

8S 



THE BOYS' BOOK OF BATTLES 

Denmark that the Swedish king's army was arrived 
from the east, and that Earl Eric's was also ready; and 
that all these chiefs had resolved to sail eastwards to 
Vendland, and wait for King Olaf at an island which 
is called Svald. They also desired the earl to contrive 
matters so that they should meet King Olaf there. 

There came first a flying report to Vendland that the 
Danish king, Svend, had fitted out an army; and it was 
soon whispered that he intended to attack King Olaf. 
But Earl Sigvald says to King Olaf, "It never can be 
King Svend 's intention to venture with the Danish 
force alone to give battle to thee with such a powerful 
army, but if thou hast any suspicion that evil is on foot, 
I will follow thee with my force [at that time it was 
considered a great matter to have Jomsburg vikings 
with an army], and I will give thee eleven manned 
ships." 

The king accepted this oflfer; and as the light breeze 
of wind that came was favorable, he ordered the ships 
to get under weigh, and the war-horns to sound the 
departure. The sails were hoisted; and all the small 
vessels, sailing fastest, got out to sea before the others. 
The earl, who sailed nearest to the king's ship, called 
to those on board to tell the king to sail in his keel- 
tracks: "For I know where the water is deepest be- 
tween the islands and in the sounds, and these large 
ships require the deepest." Then the earl sailed first 
with his eleven ships, and the king followed with his 
large ships, also eleven in number; but the whole of the 
rest of the fleet sailed out to sea. Now when Earl 
Sigvald came sailing close under the island Svald, a 
skiff rowed out to inform the earl that the Danish king's 

86 



A VIKING SEA FIGHT 

army was lying in the harbor before them. Then the 
earl ordered the sails of his vessels to be struck, and they 
rowed in under the island. Haldor the Unchristian 
says: — 

"From out the south bold Tryggve's son 

With one-and-seventy ships came on, 

To dye his sword in bloody fight, 

Against the Danish foeman's might. 

But the false earl the king betrayed; 

And treacherous Sigvald, it is said, 

Deserted from King Olaf's fleet, 

And basely fled, the Danes to meet." 

It is said here that King Olaf and Earl Sigvald had 
seventy sail of vessels and one more, when they sailed 
from the south. 

The Danish king Svend, the Swedish king Olaf, and 
Earl Eric were there with all their forces. The weather 
being fine, and clear sunshine, all these chiefs, with a 
great suite, went out on the isle to see the vessels sail- 
ing out at sea, and many of them crowded together; 
and they saw among them one large and glancing ship. 
The two kings said, "That is a large and very beauti- 
ful vessel: that will be the Long Serpent," 

Earl Eric replied, — 

"That is not the Long Serpent." And he was right;, 
for it was a ship belonging to Endric of Grimsar. 

Soon after they saw another vessel coming sailing 
along much larger than the first; then says King- 
Svend, — 

"Olaf Tryggvason must be afraid, for he does not 
venture to sail with the figure-head of the dragon upon 
his ship." 

Says Earl Eric, — 

87 



THE BOYS' BOOK OF BATTLES 

"That is not the king's ship yet; for I know that ship 
by the colored stripes of cloth in her sail. That is Eriing 
Skialgsson. Let him sail; for it is better for us that this 
ship is away from Olaf's fleet, so well equipped as she 
is." 

Soon after they saw and knew Earl Sigvald's ships, 
which turned in and laid themselves under the island. 
Then they saw three ships coming along under sail, and 
one of them very large. King Svend ordered his men 
to go to their ships, "for there comes the Long Serpent." 

Earl Eric says, — 

"Many other great and stately vessels have they 
besides the Long Serpent. Let us wait a little." 

Then said many, — 

"Earl Eric will not fight and avenge his father; and 
It is a shame that it should be told that we lay here 
with so great a force, and allowed King Olaf to sail out 
to sea before our eyes." 

But when they had spoken thus for a short time, they 
saw four ships come sailing along, of which one had a 
large dragon-head richly gilt. Then King Svend stood 
up, and said, — 

"That dragon shall carry me this evening high, for 
I shall steer it." 

Then said many, — 

"The Serpent is indeed a wonderfully large and 
beautiful vessel, and it shows a great mind to have 
built such a ship." 

Earl Eric said so loud that several persons heard him, 

"If King Olaf had no other vessels but only that one. 
King Svend would never take it from him with the 
Danish force alone." 

88 



A VIKING SEA FIGHT 

Thereafter all the people rushed on board their ships, 
took down the tents, and in all haste made ready for 
battle. 

While the chiefs were speaking among themselves, 
as above related, they saw three very large ships coming 
sailing along, and at last after them a fourth, and that 
was the Long Serpent. Of the large ships which had 
gone before, and which they had taken for the Long 
Serpent, the first was the Crane; the one after that was 
the Short Serpent; and when they really saw the Long 
Serpent all knew, and nobody had a word to say against 
it, that it must be Olaf Tryggvason who was sailing in 
such a vessel; and they went to their ships to arm for 
the fight. 

An agreement had been concluded among the chiefs, 
King Svend, King Olaf the Swede, and Earl Eric, that 
they should divide Norway among them in three parts, 
in case they succeeded against Olaf Tryggvason; but 
that he of the chiefs who should first board the Serpent 
should have her and all the booty found in her, and each 
should have the ships he cleared for himself. Earl Eric 
had a large ship of war which he used upon his viking 
expeditions; and there was an iron beard or comb above 
on both sides of the stem, and below it a thick iron plate 
as broad as the combs, which went down quite to the 
gunwale. 

When Earl Sigvald with his vessels rov/ed in under the 
island, Thorkel Dyrdil of the Crane, and the other ship 
commanders who sailed with him, saw that he turned 
his ships towards the isle, and thereupon let fall the 
sails, and rowed after him, calling out, and asking why 
he sailed that way. The earl answered, that he was 

89 



THE BOYS' BOOK OF BATTLES 

waiting for King Olaf, as he feared there were enemies 
in the way. They lay upon their oars until Thorkel 
Nefia came up with the Short Serpent and the three 
ships which followed him. When they told them the 
same, they too struck sail, and let the ships drive, wait- 
ing for King Olaf. But when the king sailed in towards 
the isle, the whole enemies' fleet came rowing within 
them out to the Sound. When they saw this, they 
begged the king to hold on his way, and not risk battle 
with so great a force. The king replied, high on the 
quarterdeck where he stood, "Strike the sails; never 
shall men of mine think of flight. I never fled from 
battle. Let God dispose of my life, but flight I shall 
never take." It was done as the king commanded. 
Half red tells of it thus: — 

"And far and wide the saying bold 
Of the brave warrior shall be told. 
The king, in many a fray well tried, 
To his brave champions round him cried, 
* My men shall never learn from me 
From the dark weapon-cloud to flee.' 
Nor were the brave words spoken then 
Forgotten by his faithful men." 

King Olaf ordered the war-horns to sound for all his 
ships to close up to each other. The king's ship lay in 
the middle of the line, and on one side lay the Short Ser- 
pent, and on the other the Crane; and as they made fast 
the stems together, the Long Serpent's stem and the 
Short Serpent's were fast together; but when the king 
saw it he called out to his men, and ordered them to lay 
the larger ship more in advance, so that its stern should 
not lie so far behind in the fleet. 

Then says Ulf the Red, — 

90 



A VIKING SEA FIGHT 

"If the Long Serpent is to lie as much more ahead of 
the other ships as she is longer than they, we shall have 
hard work of it here on the forecastle." 

The king replies, — 

"I did not think I had a forecastle man afraid as well 
as red."i 

Says Ulf , — 

"Defend thou the quarterdeck as I shall the fore- 
castle." 

The king had a bow in his hands, and laid an arrow on 
the string, and aimed at Ulf. 

Ulf said, — 

"Shoot another way, king, where it is more needful: 
my work is thy gain." 

King Olaf stood on the Serpent's quarterdeck, high 
over the others. He had a gilt shield, and a helmet in- 
laid with gold; over his armor he had a short red coat, 
and was easy to be distinguished from other men. When 
King Olaf saw that the scattered forces of the enemy 
gathered themselves together under the banners of their 
ships, he asked, — 

"Who is the chief of the force right opposite to us?" 

He was answered that it was King Svend with the 
Danish army. 

The king replies, — 

"We are not afraid of these soft Danes, for there is no 
bravery in them ; but who are the troops on the right of 
the Danes?" 

He was answered that it was King Olaf with the Swed- 
ish forces. 

"Better it were," says King Olaf, "for these Swedes 

* Ragan oc Raudan. 
91 



THE BOYS' BOOK OF BATTLES 

to be sitting at home killing their sacrifices, than to be 
venturing under our weapons from the Long Serpent. 
But who owns the large ships on the larboard side of the 
Danes?" 

"That is Earl Eric Hakonson," say they. 
The king replies, — 

"He, methinks, has good reason for meeting us; and 
we may expect the sharpest conflict with these men, for 
they are Norsemen like ourselves." 

The kings now laid out their oars, and prepared to 
attack. King Svend laid his ship against the Long Ser- 
pent. Outside of him Olaf the Swede laid himself, and 
set his ship's stem against the outermost ship of King 
Olaf's line; and on the other side lay Earl Eric. Then a 
hard combat began. Earl Sigvald held back with the 
oars on his ships, and did not join the fray. So says 
Scald Thorsteinson, who at that time was with Earl 
Eric : — 

"I followed Sigvald in my youth, 

And gallant Eric; and in truth, 

Tho' now I am growing stiff and old, 

In the spear-song I once was bold. 

Where arrows whistled on the shore 

Of Swalder fiord my shield I bore, 

And stood amidst the loudest clash 

When swords on shields made fearful crash." 

And Half red also sings thus: — 

"In truth, I think the gallant king, 
Midst such a foeman's gathering, 
Would be the better of some score 
Of his tight Drontheim lads, or more; 
For many a chief has run away, 
And left our brave king in the fray, 
Two great kings' power to withstand, 
And one great earl's, with his small band. 

92 



A VIKING SEA FIGHT 

The king who dares such mighty deed 
A hero for his scald would need." 

This battle was one of the severest told of, and many 
were the people slain. The forecastle men of the Long 
Serpent, the Short Serpent, and the Crane, threw 
grapplings and stem chains'into King Svend's ship, and 
used their weapons well against the people standing be- 
low them, for they cleared the decks of all the ships they 
could lay fast hold of; and King Svend, and all the men 
who escaped, fled to other vessels, and laid themselves 
out of bow-shot. It went with this force just as King 
Olaf Tryggvason had foreseen. Then King Olaf the 
Swede laid himself in their place; but when he came near 
the great ships it went with him as with them, for he lost 
many men and some ships, and was obliged to get away. 
But Earl Eric laid the Iron Beard side by side with the 
outermost of King Olaf's ships, thinned it of men, cut 
the cables, and let it drive. Then he lay alongside of 
the next, and fought until he had cleared it of men also. 
Now all the people who were in the smaller ships began 
to run into the larger, and the earl cut them loose as fast 
as he cleared them of men. The Danes and Swedes laid 
themselves now out of shooting distance all around 
Olaf's ship; but Earl Eric lay always close alongside of 
the ships, and used his swords and battle-axes, and as 
fast as people fell in his vessel others, Danes and Swedes, 
came in their place. So says Haldor: — 

"Sharp was the clang of shield and sword, 
And shrill the song of spears on board, 
And whistling arrows thickly flew 
Against the Serpent's gallant crew. 
And still fresh foemen, it is said, 
Earl Eric to her long side led; 

93 



THE BOYS' BOOK OF BATTLES 

Whole armies of his Danes and Swedes, 
Wielding on high their blue sword-blades." 

Then the fight became most severe, and many people 
fell. But at last it came to this, that all King Olaf Trygg- 
vason's ships were cleared of men except the Long Ser- 
pent, on board of which all who could still carry their 
arms were gathered. Then Iron Beard lay side by side 
with the Serpent, and the fight went on with battle-axe 
and sword. So says Haldor: — 

"Hard pressed on every side by foes, 
The Serpent reels beneath the blows; 
Crash go the shields around the bow. 
Breast-plates and breasts pierced thro' and thro'! 
In the sword-storm the Holm beside, 
The Iron Beard lay alongside 
The king's Long Serpent of the sea — 
Fate gave the earl the victory." 

Earl Eric was in the forehold of his ship, where a cover 
of shields had been set up. In the fight, both hewing 
weapons, sword, and axe, and the thrust of spears had 
been used; and all that could be used as weapon for cast- 
ing was cast. Some used bows, some threw spears with 
the hand. So many weapons were cast into the Serpent, 
and so thick flew spears and arrows, that the shields 
could scarcely receive them ; for on all sides the Serpent 
was surrounded by war-ships. Then King Olaf's men 
became so mad with rage, that they ran on board of the 
enemies' ships, to get at the people with stroke of sword 
and kill them; but many did not lay themselves so near 
the Serpent, in order to escape the close encounter with 
battle-axe or sword; and thus the most of Olaf's men 
went overboard and sank under their weapons, thinking 
they were fighting on plain ground. So says Half red: — 

94 



A VIKING SEA FIGHT 

"The daring lads shrink not from death, — 
O'erboard they leap, and sink beneath 
The Serpent's keel: all armed they leap. 
And down they sink five fathoms deep. 
The foe was daunted at their cheers: 
The king, who still the Serpent steers, 
In such a strait — beset with foes — 
Wanted but some more lads like those." 

Einar Tambarskelver, one of the sharpest of bow- 
shooters, stood by the mast, and shot with his bow. 
Einar shot an arrow at Earl Eric, which hit the tiller-end 
just above the earl's head so hard that it entered the 
wood up to the arrow-shaft. The earl looked that way, 
and asked if they knew who had shot; and at the same 
moment another arrow flew between his hand and his 
side, and into the stuffing of the chief's stool, so that the 
barb stood far out on the other side. Then said the earl 
to a man called Fin, — but some say he was of Finn 
(Laplander) race, and was a superior archer, — "Shoot 
that tall man by the mast." Fin shot; and the arrow hit 
the middle of Einar's bow Just at the moment that Einar 
was drawing it, and the bow was split in two parts. 

"What is that," cried King Olaf, "that broke with 
such a noise?" 

"Norway, king, from thy hands," cried Einar. 

"No! not quite so much as that," says the king; 
" take my bow, and shoot," flinging the bow to him. 

Einar took the bow, and drew it over the head of the 
arrow. "Too weak, too weak," said he, "for the bow of 
a mighty king!" and throwing the bow aside, he took 
sword and shield, and fought valiantly. 

The king stood on the gangways of the Long Serpent, 
and shot the greater part of the day; sometimes with the 

95 



THE BOYS' BOOK OF BATTLES 

bow, sometimes with the spear, and always throwing 
two spears at once. He looked down over the ship's side, 
and saw that his men struck briskly with their swords, 
and yet wounded but seldom. Then he called aloud, 
"Why do ye strike so gently that ye seldom cut? " One 
among the people answered, "The swords are blunt and 
full of notches." Then the king went down into the fore- 
hold, opened the chest under the throne, and took out 
many sharp swords, which he handed to his men ; but as 
he stretched down his right hand with them, some ob- 
served that blood was running down under his steel 
glove, but no one knew where he was wounded. 

Desperate was the defense in the Serpent, and there 
was the heaviest destruction of men done by the fore- 
castle crew, and those of the forehold, for in both places 
the men were chosen men, and the ship was highest; but 
in the middle of the ship the people were thinned. Now 
when Earl Eric saw there were but few people remaining 
beside the ship's mast, he determined to board; and he 
entered the Serpent with four others. Then came Hyrn- 
ing, the king's brother-in-law, and some others against 
him, and there was the most severe combat; and at last 
the earl was forced to leap back on board the Iron Beard 
again, and some who had accompanied him were killed, 
and others wounded. Thord Kolbeinsson alludes to 
this: — 

"On Odin's deck, all wet with blood, 

The helm-adorned hero stood; 

And gallant Hyrning honor gained, 

Clearing all round with sword deep stained. 

The high Fielde peaks shall fall, 

Ere men forget this to recall." 

Now the fight became hot indeed, and many men 

96 



A VIKING SEA FIGHT 

fell on board the Serpent; and the men on board of her 
began to be thinned off, and the defense to be weaker. 
The earl resolved to board the Serpent again, and again 
he met with a warm reception. When the forecastle men 
of the Serpent saw what he was doing, they went aft and 
made a desperate fight; but so many men of the Serpent 
had fallen, that the ship's sides were in many places 
quite bare of defenders; and the earl's men poured in all 
around into the vessel, and all the men who were still 
able to defend the ship crowded aft to the king, and ar- 
rayed themselves for his defense. So says Haldor the 
Unchristian: — 

"Eric cheers on his men, — 
*0n to the charge again!' 
The gallant few 
Of Olaf's crew 
Must refuge take 
On the quarterdeck. 
Around the king 
They stand in ring; 
Their shields inclose 
The king from foes, 
And the few who still remain 
Fight madly, but in vain. 
Eric cheers on his men — 
*0n to the charge again!'" 

Kolbiorn the marshal, who had on clothes and arms 
like the king's, and was a remarkably stout and hand- 
some man, went up to the king on the quarterdeck. The 
battle was still going on fiercely even in the forehold. 
But as many of the earl's men had now got into the Ser- 
pent as could find room, and his ships lay all round her, 
and few were the people left in the Serpent for defense 
against so great a force; and in a short time most of the 

97 



THE BOYS' BOOK OF BATTLES 

Serpent's men fell, brave and stout though they were. 
King Olaf and Kolbiorn the marshal both sprang over- 
board, each on his own side of the ship; but the earl's 
men had laid out boats around the Serpent, and killed 
those who leaped overboard. Now when the king had 
sprung overboard, they tried to seize him with their 
hands, and bring him to Earl Eric; but King Olaf threw 
his shield over his head, and sank beneath the waters. 
Kolbiorn held his shield behind him to protect himself 
from the spears cast at him from the ships which lay 
round the Serpent, and he fell so upon his shield that it 
came under him, so that he could not sink so quickly. 
He was thus taken, and brought into a boat, and they 
supposed he was the king. He was brought before the 
earl; and when the earl saw it was Kolbiorn, and not the 
king, he gave him his life. At the same moment all of 
King Olaf 's men who were in life sprang overboard from 
the Serpent; and Thorkel Nefia, the king's brother, was 
the last of all the men who sprang overboard. It is thus 
told concerning the king by Half red : — 

"The Serpent and the Crane 
Lay wrecks upon the main. 
On his sword he cast a glance, — 
With it he saw no chance. 
To his marshal, who of yore 
Many a war-chance had come o'er, 
He spoke a word — then drew in breath, 
And sprang to his deep-sea death." 

Earl Sigvald, as before related, came from Vendland, 
in company with King Olaf, with ten ships; but the 
eleventh ship was manned with the men of Astrid, the 
king's daughter, the wife of Earl Sigvald. Now when 
King Olaf sprang overboard, the whole army raised a 

98 



A VIKING SEA FIGHT 

shout of victory; and then Earl Sigvald and his men put 
their oars in the water and rowed towards the battle. 
Haldor the Unchristian tells of it thus: — 

"Then first the Vendland vessels came 
Into the fight with little fame; 
The fight still lingered on the wave, 
Tho' hope was gone with Olaf brave. 
War, like a full-fed ravenous beast, 
Still oped her grim jaws for the feast. 
The few who stood now quickly fled, 
When the shout told — 'Olaf is dead!'" 

But the Vendland cutter, in which Astrid's men were, 
rowed back to Vendland; and the report went immedi- 
ately abroad, and was told by many, that King Olaf had 
cast off his coat of mail under water, and had swam, 
diving under the long-ships, until he came to the Vend- 
land cutter, and that Astrid's men had conveyed him to 
Vendland: and many tales have been made since about 
the adventures of Olaf the king. Halfred speaks thus 
about it: — 

"Does Olaf live? or is he dead? 
Has he the hungry ravens fed? 
I scarcely know what I should say, 
For many tell the tale each way. 
This I can say, nor fear to lie. 
That he was wounded grievously, — 
So wounded in this bloody strife, 
He scarce could come away with life." 

But however this may have been, King Olaf Trygg- 
vason never came back again to his kingdom of Nor- 
way. 



THE LAST DANISH INVASION 
[1066] 

BY EDWARD BULWEE-LYTTON 

[After the death of Edward the Confessor, Harold, Earl of 
Wessex, was elected king. William of Normandy averred 
that Edward had promised him the crown — which in any 
case he had no right to do — and that he should defend 
his claim. His preparations, however, took many months, 
and in the mean time, Harold's brother Tostig encouraged 
Harold Hardrada, King of Norway, to make an attack upon 
England. 

The Editor.] 

At the news of this foe on the north side of the land, 
King Harold was compelled to withdraw all the forces 
at watch in the south against the tardy invasion of 
William. It was the middle of September; eight months 
had elapsed since the Norman had launched forth his 
vaunting threat. Would he now dare to come? Come or 
not, that foe was afar, and this was in the heart of the 
country! 

Now, York having thus capitulated, all the land 
round was humbled and awed; and Hardrada and Tostig 
were blithe and gay; and many days, thought they, 
must pass ere Harold the King can come from the south 
to the north. 

The camp of the Norsemen was at Stanford Bridge, 
and that day it was settled that they should formally 
enter York. Their ships lay in the river beyond; a large 

100 



THE LAST DANISH INVASION 

portion of the armament was with the ships. The day 
was warm, and the men with Hardrada had laid aside 
their heavy mail and were "making merry," talking of 
the plunder of York, jeering at Saxon valor, and gloating 
over thoughts of the Saxon maids, whom Saxon men had 
failed to protect, — when suddenly between them and 
the town rose and rolled a great cloud of dust. High it 
rose, and fast it rolled, and from the heart of the cloud 
shone the spear and the shield. 

"What army comes yonder?" said Harold Hardrada. 

"Strely," answered Tostig, "it comes from the town 
that we are to enter as conquerors, and can be but the 
friendly Northumbrians who have deserted IMorcar for 
me." 

Nearer and nearer came the force, and the shine of the 
arms was like the glancing of ice. 

"Advance the World-Ravager!" cried Harold Har- 
drada, "draw up and to arms!" 

Then, picking out three of his briskest youths, he 
dispatched them to the force on the river with orders 
to come up quick to the aid. For already, through the 
cloud and amidst the spears, was seen the flag of the 
English King. On the previous night King Harold had 
entered York, unknown to the invaders — appeased the 
mutiny — cheered the townsfolks; and now came, like 
the thunderbolt borne by the winds, to clear the air of 
England from the clouds of the North. 

Both armaments drew up in haste, and Hardrada 
formed his array in the form of a circle, — the line long 
but not deep, the wings curving round till they met 
shield to shield. Those who stood in the first rank set 
their spear-shafts on the ground, the points level v/ith 

lOI 



THE BOYS' BOOK OF BATTLES 

the breast of a horseman; those in the second, with 
spears yet lower, level with the breast of a horse; thus 
forming a double palisade against the charge of cavalry. 
In the center of this circle was placed the Ravager of 
the World, and round it a rampart of shields. Behind 
that rampart was the accustomed post at the onset 
of battle for the king and his body-guard. But Tostig 
was in front, with his own Northumbrian Lion banner, 
and his chosen men. 

While this army was thus being formed, the English 
king was marshaling his force in the far more formid- 
able tactics, which his military science had perfected 
from the warfare of the Danes. That form of battalion, 
invincible hitherto under his leadership, was in the man- 
ner of a wedge or triangle, thus A. So that, in attack, 
the men marched on the foe presenting the smallest 
possible surface to the missiles, and, in defense, all 
three lines faced the assailants. King Harold cast his 
eye over the closing lines, and then, turning to Gurth, 
who rode by his side, said : — 

"Take one man from yon hostile army, and with 
what joy should we charge on the Northmen!" 

"I conceive thee," answered Gurth mournfully, "and 
the same thought of that one man makes my arm feel 
palsied." 

The king mused, and drew down the nasal bar of his 
helmet. 

"Thegns," said he suddenly, to the score of riders who 
grouped round him, "follow." And shaking the rein of 
his horse. King Harold rode straight to that part of the 
hostile front from which rose, above the spears, the 
Northumbrian banner of Tostig. Wondering, but mute, 

102 



THE LAST DANISH INVASION 

the twenty thegns followed him. Before the grim array, 
and hard by Tostig's banner, the king checked his steed 
and cried : — 

"Is Tostig, the son of Godwin and Githa, by the flag 
of the Northumbrian earldom?" 

With his helmet raised, and his Norwegian mantle 
flowing over his mail, Earl Tostig rode forth at that 
voice, and came up to the speaker. 

"What wouldst thou with me, daring foe?" 

The Saxon horseman paused, and his deep voice 
trembled tenderly, as he answered slowly: — 

"Thy brother, King Harold, sends to salute thee. Let 
not the sons from the same womb wage unnatural war 
in the soil of their fathers." 

"What will Harold the king give to his brother?" 
answered Tostig. "Northumbria already he hath be- 
stowed on the son of his house's foe." 

The Saxon hesitated, and a rider by his side took up 
the word : — 

"If the Northumbrians will receive thee again, 
Northumbria shalt thou have, and the king will bestow 
his late earldom of Wessex on Morcar; if the Northum- 
brians reject thee thou shalt have all the lordships which 
King Harold hath promised to Gurth." 

"This is well," answered Tostig; and he seemed to 
pause as in doubt; when, made aware of this parley, 
King Harold Hardrada, on his coal-black steed, with 
his helm all shining with gold, rode from the lines, and 
came into hearing. 

"Ha!" said Tostig then, turning round, as the giant 
form of the Norse king threw its vast shadow over the 
ground. 

103 



THE BOYS' BOOK OF BATTLES 

"And if I take the offer, what will Harold son of 
Godwin give to my friend and ally Hardrada of Nor- 
way?" 

The Saxon rider reared his head at these' words, and 
gazed on the large front of Hardrada, as he answered 
loud and distinct: — 

"Seven feet of land for a grave, or, seeing that he is 
taller than other men, as much more as his corse may 
demand ! " 

''Then go back, and tell Harold my brother to get 
ready for battle; for never shall the scalds and the 
warriors of Norway say that Tostig lured their king in 
his cause, to betray him to his foe. Here did he come, 
and here came I, to win as the brave win, or die as the 
brave die!" 

A rider of younger and slighter form than the rest 
here whispered the Saxon king: — 

"Delay no more, or thy men's hearts will fear 
treason." 

"The tie is rent from my heart, O Haco," answered 
the king, "and the heart flies back to our England." 

He waved his hand, turned his steed, and rode off. 
The eye of Hardrada followed the horseman. 

"And who," he asked calmly, " is that man who spoke 
so well?" 

"King Harold!" answered Tostig briefly. 

"How!" cried the Norseman, reddening, "how was 
not that made known to me before? Never should he 
have gone back — never told hereafter the doom of this 
day!" 

With all his ferocity, his envy, his grudge to Harold, 
and his treason to England, some rude notions of honor 

104 



THE LAST DANISH INVASION 

still lay confused in the breast of the Saxon; and he 
answered stoutly: — 

"Imprudent was Harold's coming, and great his 
danger; but he came to offer me peace and dominion. 
Had I betrayed him, I had not been his foe, but his 
murderer!" 

The Norse king smiled approvingly, and turning to 
his chiefs, said dryly: — 

"That man was shorter than some of us, but he rode 
firm in his stirrups." 

And then this extraordinary person, who united in 
himself all the types of an age that vanished forever in 
his grave, and who is the more interesting, as in him we 
see the race from which the Norman sprang, began, in 
the rich, full voice that pealed deep as an organ, to 
chaunt his impromptu war-song. He halted in the midst, 
and with great composure said : — 

"That verse is but ill-tuned; I must try a better." 

He passed his hand over his brow, mused an instant, 
and then, with his fair face all illumined, he burst forth 
as inspired. 

This time, air, rhythm, words, all so chimed in with 
his own enthusiasm and that of his men, that the effect 
was inexpressible. It was, indeed, like the charm of 
those runes which are said to have maddened the Ber- 
serker with the frenzy of war. 

Meanwhile the Saxon phalanx came on, slow and 
firm, and in a few minutes the battle began. It com- 
menced first with the charge of the English cavalry 
(never numerous), led by Leofwine and Haco, but the 
double palisade of the Norman spears formed an impass- 
able barrier; and the horsemen, recoihng from the frieze, 



THE BOYS' BOOK OF BATTLES 

rode round the iron circle without other damage than 
the spear and javelin could effect. Meanwhile, King 
Harold, who had dismounted, marched, as was his wont, 
with the body of footmen. He kept his post in the hollow 
of the triangular wedge, whence he could best issue his 
orders. Avoiding the side over which Tostig presided, 
he halted his array in full center of the enemy where 
the Ravager of the World, streaming high above the 
inner rampart of shields, showed the presence of the 
giant Hardrada. 

The air was now literally darkened with the flights of 
arrows and spears; and in a war of missives the Saxons 
were less skilled than the Norsemen. Still King Harold 
restrained the ardor of his men, who, sore harassed by 
the darts, yearned to close on the foe. He himself, 
standing on a little eminence, more exposed than his 
meanest soldier, deliberately eyed the sallies of the 
horse, and watched the moment he foresaw, when, en- 
couraged by his own susj>ense, and the feeble attacks 
of the cavalry, the Norsemen would lift their spears 
from the ground and advance themselves to the assault. 
That moment came; unable to withhold their own fiery 
zeal, stimulated by the tromp, and the clash, and the 
war-hymns of their king, and his choral scalds, the 
Norsemen broke ground and came on. 

"To your axes, and charge!" cried Harold; and pass- 
ing at once from the center to the front, he led on the 
array. 

The impetus of that artful phalanx was tremendous; 
it pierced through the ring of the Norwegians; it clove 
into the rampart of shields; and King Harold's battle- 
axe was the first that shivered that wall of steel, his step 

io6 



THE LAST DANISH INVASION 

the first that strode to the innermost circle that guarded 
the Ravager of the World. 

Then forth, from under the shade of that great flag, 
came, himself also on foot, Harold Hardrada; shouting 
and chaunting, he leaped with long strides into the thick 
of the onslaught. He had flung away his shield, and sway- 
ing with both hands his enormous sword, he hewed 
down man after man, till space grew clear before him; 
and the English, recoiling in awe before an image of 
height and strength that seemed superhuman, left but 
one form standing firm, and in front, to oppose his 
way. 

At that moment the whole strife seemed not to belong 
to an age comparatively modern; it took a character 
of remotest eld; and Thor and Odin seemed to have 
returned to the earth. Behind this towering and Titan 
warrior, their wild hair streaming long under their helms, 
came his scalds, all singing their hymns, drunk with the 
madness of battle. And the Ravager of the World tossed 
and flapped as it followed, so that the vast raven de- 
picted on its folds seemed horrid with life. And calm 
and alone, his eye watchful, his axe lifted, his foot 
ready for rush or for spring, — but firm as an oak against 
flight, — stood the last of the Saxon Kings. 

Down bounded Hardrada, and down shore his sword; 
King Harold's shield was cloven in two, and the force 
of the blow brought himself to his knee. But, as swift 
as the flash of that sword, he sprang to his feet; and 
while Hardrada still bowed his head, not recovered from 
the force of his blow, the axe of the Saxon came so full 
on his helmet that the giant reeled, dropped his sword, 
and staggered back; his scalds and his chiefs rushed 

107 



THE BOYS' BOOK OF BATTLES 

around him. That gallant stand of King Harold saved 
his English from flight; and now, as they saw him almost 
lost in the throng, yet still cleaving his way — on, on — 
to the raven standard, they rallied with one heart, and 
shouting forth, "Out, out! Holy crosse!" forced their 
way to his side, and the fight now raged hot and equal, 
hand to hand. Meanwhile Hardrada, borne a little 
apart, and relieved from his dinted helmet, recovered 
the shock of the weightiest blow that had ever dimmed 
his e3^e and numbed his hand. Tossing the helmet on 
the ground, his bright locks glittering like sunbeams, he 
rushed back to the melee. Again helm and mail went 
down before him; again through the crowd he saw the 
arm that had smitten him; again he sprang forward to 
finish the war with a blow, — when a shaft from some 
distant bow pierced the throat which the casque now 
left bare ; a sound like the wail of a death-song murmured 
brokenly from his lips, which then gushed out with 
blood, and tossing up his arms wildly, he fell to the 
ground, a corpse. At that sight a yell of such terror and 
woe, and wrath all commingled, broke from the Norse- 
men, that it hushed the very war for the moment! 

"On! "cried the Saxon king, "let our earth take its 
spoiler! On to the standard, and the day is our own!" 

"On to the standard!" cried Haco, who, his horse 
slain under him, all bloody with wounds not his own, 
now came to the king's side. Grim and tall rose the 
standard, and the streamer shrieked and flapped in the 
wind as if the raven had voice, when right before Harold, 
right between him and the banner, stood Tostig his 
brother, known by the splendor of his mail, the gold 
work on his mantle — known by the fierce laugh, and 

1 08 



THE LAST DANISH INVASION 

defying voice, "What matters!" cried Haco; "strike, 
O king, for thy crown!" 

Harold's hand griped Haco's arm convulsively; he 
lowered his axe, turned round, and passed shudderingly 
away. 

Both armies now paused from the attack; for both 
were thrown into great disorder, and each gladly gave 
respite to the other, to re-form its own shattered array. 

The Norsemen were not soldiers to yield because their 
leader was slain — rather the more resolute to fight, 
since revenge was now added to valor; yet, but for the 
daring and promptness with which Tostig had cut his 
way to the standard, the day had been already decided. 

During the pause, Harold, summoning Gurth, said to 
him in great emotion, " For the sake of Nature, for the 
love of God, go, O Gurth, — go to Tostig; urge him, now 
Hardrada is dead, urge him to peace. All that we can 
proffer with honor, proffer — quarter and free retreat 
to every Norseman. Oh, save me, save us, from a 
brother's blood!" 

Gurth lifted his helmet, and kissed the mailed hand 
that grasped his own. 

"I go," said he. And so, bareheaded, and with a 
single trumpeter, he went to the hostile lines. 

Harold awaited him in great agitation ; nor could any 
man have guessed what bitter and awful thoughts lay 
in that heart, from which, in the way to power, tie after 
tie had been wrenched away. He did not wait long; and 
even before Gurth rejoined him, he knew by an unani- 
mous shout of fury, to which the clash of countless 
shields chimed in, that the mission had been in vain. 

Tostig had refused to hear Gurth, save in presence of 

109 



THE BOYS' BOOK OF BATTLES 

the Norwegian chiefs; and when the message had been 
delivered, they all cried, "We would rather fall one 
across the corpse of the other, than leave a field in which 
our king was slain." 

"Ye hear them," said Tostig; "as they speak, 
speak I." 

"Not mine this guilt too, O God!" said Harold, 
solemnly hfting his hand on high. "Now, then, to 
duty." 

By this time the Norwegian reinforcements had 
arrived from the ships, and this for a short time ren- 
dered the conflict, that immediately ensued, uncertain 
and critical. But Harold's generalship was now as 
consummate as his valor had been daring. He kept his 
men true to their irrefragable line. Even if fragments 
splintered off, each fragment threw itself into the form 
of the resistless wedge. One Norwegian, standing on 
the bridge of Stamford, long guarded that pass; and no 
less than forty Saxons are said to have perished by his 
arm. To him the English king sent a generous pledge, 
not only of safety for the life, but honor for the valor. 
The viking refused to surrender, and fell at last by a 
javelin from the hand of Haco. As if in him had been 
embodied the unyielding war-god of the Norsemen, in 
that death died the last hope of the vikings. They fell 
Hterally where they stood; many, from sheer exhaustion 
and the weight of their mail, died without a blow. And 
in the shades of nightfall, Harold stood amidst the 
shattered rampart of shields, his foot on the corpse 
of the standard-bearer, his hand on the Ravager of the 
World. 

"Thy brother's corpse is borne yonder," said Haco 
no 



THE LAST DANISH IN\^ASION 

in the ear of the king, as, wiping the blood from his 
sword, he plunged it back into the sheath. 

Young Olave, the son of Hardrada, had happily 
escaped the slaughter. A strong detachment of the 
Norwegians had still remained with the vessels; and 
amongst them some prudent old chiefs, who, foresee- 
ing the probable results of the day, and knowing that 
Hardrada would never quit, save as a conqueror or a 
corpse, the field on which he had planted the Ravager 
of the World, had detained the prince almost by force 
from sharing the fate of his father. But ere those ves- 
sels could put out to sea, the vigorous measures of the 
Saxon king had already intercepted the retreat of the 
vessels. And then, ranging their shields as a wall round 
their masts, the bold vikings at least determined to die 
as men. But with the morning came King Harold him- 
self to the banks of the river, and behind him, with 
trailed lances, a solemn procession that bore the body of 
the scald king. They halted on the margin, and a boat 
was launched towards the Norwegian fleet, bearing a 
monk who demanded the chiefs to send a deputation, 
headed by the young prince himself, to receive the corpse 
of their king, and hear the proposals of the Saxon. 

The vikings, who had anticipated no preliminaries to 
the massacre they awaited, did not hesitate to accept 
these overtures. Twelve of the most famous chiefs still 
surviving, and Olave himself, entered the boat; and, 
standing between his brothers Leofwine and Gurth, 
Harold thus accosted them : — 

"Your king invaded a people that had given him no 
offense: he has paid the forfeit — we war not with the 
dead! Give to his remains the honors due to the brave. 

Ill 



THE BOYS' BOOK OF BATTLES 

Without ransom or condition, we yield to you what can 
no longer harm us. And for thee, young prince," con- 
tinued the king, with a tone of pity in his voice, as he 
contemplated the stately boyhood and proud but deep 
grief in the face of Olave, "for thee, wilt thou not live 
to learn that the wars of Odin are treason to the Faith of 
the Cross? We have conquered — we dare not butcher. 
Take such ships as ye need for those that survive. 
Three-and-twenty I offer for your transport. Return to 
your native shores, and guard them as we have guarded 
ours. Are ye contented?" 

Amongst those chiefs was a stern priest — the Bishop 
of the Orcades; he advanced, and bent his knee to the 
king. 

"O Lord of England," said he, "yesterday thou didst 
conquer the form — to-day, the soul. And never more 
may generous Norsemen invade the coast of him who 
honors the dead and spares the living." 

"Amen!" cried the chiefs, and they all knelt to Har- 
old. The young prince stood a moment irresolute, for 
his dead father was on the bier before him, and revenge 
was yet a virtue in the heart of a sea-king. But lifting 
his eyes to Harold's, the mild and gentle majesty of the 
Saxon's brow was irresistible in its benign command ; 
and stretching his right hand to the king, he raised on 
high the other, and said aloud, "Faith and friendship 
with thee and England evermore." 

Then all the chiefs rising, they gathered round the 
bier, but no hand, in the sight of the conquering foe, 
lifted the cloth of gold that covered the corpse of the 
famous king. The bearers of the bier moved on slowly 
towards the boat; the Norwegians followed with meas- 

112 



THE LAST DANISH INVASION 

ured funereal steps, and not till the bier was placed on 
board the royal galley was there heard the wail of woe; 
but then it came loud, and deep, and dismal, and was 
followed by a burst of wild song from a surviving scald. 

The Norwegian preparations for departure were soon 
made, and the ships vouchsafed to their convoy raised 
anchor, and sailed down the stream. Harold's eye 
watched the ships from the river banks. 

''And there," said he at last, " there glide the last sails 
that shall ever bear the devastating raven to the shores 
of England." 



THE BATTLE OF HASTINGS 

[1066] 

BY ROBERT WAGE 

The English had built up a fence before them with their 
shields, and with ash and other wood; and had well 
joined and wattled in the whole work, so as not to leave 
even a crevice; and thus they had a barricade in their 
front, through which any Norman who would attack 
them must first pass. Being covered in this way by their 
shields and barricades, their aim was to defend them- 
selves : and if they had remained steady for that purpose, 
they would not have been conquered that day; for every 
Norman who made his way in, lost his life, either by 
hatchet or bill, by club, or other weapon. They wore 
short and close hauberks, and helmets that hung over 
their garments. King Harold issued orders and made 
proclamation round, that all should be ranged with their 
faces towards the enemy; and that no one should move 
from where he was; so that, whoever came might find 
them ready; and that whatever any one, be he Norman 
or other, should do, each should do his best to defend his 
own place. Then he ordered the men of Kent to go 
where the Normans were likely to make the attack ; for 
they say that the men of Kent are entitled to strike first; 
and that whenever the king goes to battle, the first blow 
belongs to them. The right of the men of London is to 
guard the king's body, to place themselves around him, 

114 



THE BATTLE OF HASTINGS 

and to guard his standard; and they were accordingly 
placed by the standard to watch and defend it. 

When Harold had made his reply, and given his or- 
ders, he came into the midst of the English, and dis- 
mounted by the side of the standard. Leofwine and 
Gurth, his brothers, were with him, and around him he 
had barons enough, as he stood by his standard, which 
was in truth a noble one, sparkUng with gold and pre- 
cious stones. After the victory, William sent it to the 
Pope, to prove and commemorate his great conquest 
and glory. The English stood in close ranks, ready and 
eager for the fight; and they moreover made a fosse, 
which went across the field, guarding one side of their 
army. 

Meanwhile the Normans appeared advancing over 
the ridge of a rising ground ; and the first division of their 
troops moved onwards along the hill and across a valley. 
And presently another division, still larger, came in 
sight, close following upon the first, and they were led 
towards another part of the field, forming together as the 
first body had done. And while Harold saw and exam- 
ined them, and was pointing them out to Gurth, a fresh 
company came in sight, covering all the plain; and in the 
midst of them was raised the standard that came from 
Rome. Near it was the duke, and the best men and 
greatest strength of the army were there. The good 
knights, the good vassals, and brave warriors were 
there; and there were gathered together the gentle 
barons, the good archers, and the men-at-arms, whose 
duty it was to guard the duke, and range themselves 
around him. The youths and common herd of the camp, 
whose business was not to join in the battle, but to take 

115 



THE BOYS' BOOK OF BATTLES 

care of the harness and stores, moved off towards a rising 
ground. The priests and the clerks also ascended a hill, 
there to offer up prayers to God, and watch the event 
of the battle. 

The English stood firm on foot in close ranks, and 
carried themselves right boldly. Each man had his 
hauberk on, with his sword girt, and his shield at his 
neck. Great hatchets were also slung at their necks, with 
which they expected to strike heavy blows. 

The Normans brought on the three divisions of their 
army to attack at different places. They set out in three 
companies, and in three companies did they fight. The 
first and second had come up, and then advanced the 
third, which was the greatest; with that came the duke 
with his own men, and all moved boldly forward. 

As soon as the two armies were in full view of each 
other, great noise and tumult arose. You might hear the 
sound of many trumpets, of bugles, and of horns: and 
then you might see men ranging themselves in line, lift- 
ing their shields, raising their lances, bending their bows, 
handling their arrows, ready for assault and defense. 

The English stood steady to their post, the Normans 
still moved on; and when they drew near, the English 
v;ere to be seen stirring to and fro ; were going and com- 
ing; troops ranging themselves in order; some with their 
color rising, others turning pale; some making ready 
their arms; others raising their shields; the brave man 
rousing himself to fight, the coward trembling at the 
approach of danger. 

Then Taillefer, who sang right well, rode mounted on 
a swift horse, before the duke, singing of Charlemagne, 
and of Roland, of OHvier, and the Peers who died in 

ii6 



THE BATTLE OF HASTINGS 

Roncesvalles. And when they drew nigh to the English, 
"A boon, sire!" cried Taillefer; "I have long served 
you, and you owe me for all such service. To-day, so 
please you, you shall repay it. I ask as my guerdon and 
beseech you for it earnestly, that you will allow me to 
strike the first blow in the battle!" And the duke 
answered, " I grant it." Then Taillefer put his horse to a 
gallop, charging before all the rest, and struck an Eng- 
lishman dead, driving his lance below the breast into his 
body, and stretching him upon the ground. Then he 
drew his sword, and struck another, crying out, " Come 
on, come on! What do ye, sirs? lay on, lay on!" At the 
second blow he struck, the English pushed forward, and 
surrounded and slew him. Forthwith arose the noise 
and cry of war, and on either side the people put them- 
selves in motion. 

The Normans moved on to the assault, and the Eng- 
lish defended themselves well. Some were striking, 
others urging onwards; all were bold, and cast aside fear. 
And now, behold, that battle was gathered, whereof the 
fame is yet mighty. 

Loud and far resounded the bray of the horns ; and the 
shocks of the lances, the mighty strokes of maces, and 
the quick clashing of swords. One while the Englishmen 
rushed on, another while they fell back; one while the 
men from oversea charged onwards, and again at other 
times retreated. The Normans shouted "Dex aie," the 
English people "Out." Then came the cunning maneu- 
vers, the rude shocks and strokes of the lances and blows 
of the swords, among the sergeants and soldiers, both 
English and Norman. 

When the English fall, the Normans shout. Each side 
117 



THE BOYS' BOOK OF BATTLES 

taunts and defies the other, yet neither knoweth what 
the other saith; and the Normans say the English bark, 
because they understand not their speech. 

Some wax strong, others weak: the brave exult, but 
the cowards tremble, as men who are sore dismayed. 
The Normans press on the assault, and the English 
defend their post well: they pierce the hauberks, and 
cleave the shields, receive and return mighty blows. 
Again, some press forwards; others yield, and thus in 
various ways the struggle proceeds. In the plain was a 
fosse, which the Normans had now behind them, hav- 
ing passed it in the fight without regarding it. But the 
English charged and drove the Normans before them 
till they made them fall back upon this fosse, overthrow- 
ing into it horses and men. Many were to be seen fall- 
ing therein, rolling one over the other, with their faces to 
the earth, and unable to rise. Many of the English, also, 
whom the Normans drew down along with them, died 
there. At no time during the day's battle did so many 
Normans die as perished in that fosse. So those said 
who saw the dead. 

The varlets who were set to guard the harness began 
to abandon it as they saw the loss of the Frenchmen, 
when thrown back upon the fosse without power to 
recover themselves. Being greatly alarmed at seeing the 
difiiculty in restoring order, they began to quit the har- 
ness, and sought around, not knowing where to find 
shelter. Then Duke William's brother, Odo, the good 
priest, the bishop of Bayeux, galloped up, and said to 
them, "Stand fast! stand fast! be quiet and move not! 
fear nothing, for if God please, we shall conquer yet." 
So they took courage, and rested where they were; and 

ii8 



THE BATTLE OF HASTINGS 

Odo returned galloping back to where the battle was 
most fierce, and was of great service on that day. He 
had put a hauberk on, over a white aube; wide in the 
body, with the sleeve tight ; and sat on a white horse, so 
that all might recognize him. In his hand he held a 
mace, and wherever he saw most need he held up and 
stationed the knights, and often urged them on to assault 
and strike the enemy. 

From nine o'clock in the morning, when the combat 
began, till three o'clock came, the battle was up and 
down, this way and that, and no one knew who would 
conquer and win the land. Both sides stood so firm and 
fought so well, that no one could guess which would 
prevail. The Norman archers with their bows shot 
thickly upon the English ; but they covered themselves 
with their shields, so that the arrows could not reach 
their bodies, nor do any mischief, how true soever was 
their aim, or however well they shot. Then the Normans 
determined to shoot their arrov/s upwards into the air, 
so that they might fall on their enemies' heads, and 
strike their faces. The archers adopted this scheme, and 
shot up into the air towards the English; and the arrows 
in falling struck their heads and faces, and put out the 
eyes of many; and all feared to open their eyes, or leave 
their faces unguarded. 

The arrows now flew thicker than rain before the 
wind; fast sped the shafts that the English called 
"wibetes." Then it was that an arrow, that had thus 
been shot upwards, struck Harold above his right eye, 
and put it out. In his agony he drew the arrow and 
threw it away, breaking it with his hands: and the pain 
to his head was so great, that he leaned upon his shield. 

119 



THE BOYS' BOOK OF BATTLES 

So the English were wont to say, and still say to the 
French, that the arrow was well shot which was so sent 
up against their king; and that the archer won them great 
glory, who thus put out Harold's eye. 

The Normans saw that the English defended them- 
selves well, and were so strong in their position that they 
could do little against them. So they consulted together 
privily, and arranged to draw off, and pretend to flee, 
till the English should pursue and scatter themselves 
over the field; for they saw that if they could once get 
their enemies to break their ranks, they might be at- 
tacked and discomfited much more easily. As they had 
said, so they did. The Normans by little and little fled, 
the English following them. As the one fell back, the 
other pressed after; and when the Frenchmen retreated, 
the English thought and cried out, that the men of 
France fled, and would never return. 

Thus they were deceived by the pretended flight, and 
great mischief thereby befell them; for if they had not 
moved from their position, it is not likely that they 
would have been conquered at all; but like fools they 
broke their lines and pursued. 

The Normans were to be seen following up their 
stratagem, retreating slowly so as to draw the English 
further on. As they still flee, the English pursue; they 
push out their lances and stretch forth their hatchets: 
following the Normans, as they go rejoicing in the suc- 
cess of their scheme, and scattering themselves over the 
plain. And the English meantime jeered and insulted 
their foes with words. "Cowards," they cried, "you 
came hither in an evil hour, wanting our lands, and seek- 
ing to seize our property, fools that ye were to come! 

I20 



THE BATTLE OF HASTINGS 

Normandy is too far off, and you will not easily reach it. 
It is of little use to run back; unless you can cross the sea 
at a leap, or can drink it dry, your sons and daughters 
are lost to you." 

The Normans bore it all, but in fact they knew not 
what the English said; their language seemed like the 
baying of dogs, which they could not understand. At 
length they stopped and turned round, determined to 
recover their ranks; and the barons might be heard 
crying "Dex aie!" for a halt. Then the Normans 
resumed their former position, turning their faces to- 
wards the enemy; and their men were to be seen facing 
round and rushing onwards to a fresh melee; the one 
party assaulting the other; this man striking, another 
pressing onwards. One hits, another misses; one flies, an- 
other pursues : one is aiming a stroke, while another dis- 
charges his blow. Norman strives with Englishman 
again, and aims his blows afresh. One flies, another pur- 
sues swiftly: the combatants are many, the plain wide, 
the battle and the meUe fierce. On every hand they fight 
hard, the blows are heavy, and the struggle becomes 
fierce. 

The Normans were playing their part well, when 
an English knight came rushing up, having in his com- 
pany a hundred men, furnished with various arms. He 
wielded a northern hatchet, with the blade a full foot 
long; and was well armed after his manner, being tall, 
bold, and of noble carriage. In the front of the battle 
where the Normans thronged most, he came bounding 
on swifter than the stag, many Normans falling before 
him and his company. He rushed straight upon a Nor- 
man who was armed and riding on a war-horse, and 

121 



THE BOYS' BOOK OF BATTLES 

tried with his hatchet of steel to cleave his helmet; but 
the blow miscarried, and the sharp blade glanced down 
before the saddle-bow, driving through the horse's neck 
down to the ground, so that both horse and master fell 
together to the earth. I know not whether the Enghsh- 
man struck another blow; but the Normans who saw 
the stroke were astonished, and about to abandon the 
assault, when Roger de Montgomeri came galloping up, 
with his lance set, and heeding not the long-handled axe, 
which the Englishman wielded aloft, struck him down, 
and left him stretched upon the ground. Then Roger 
cried out, "Frenchmen, strike! the day is ours!" And 
again a fierce melee was to be seen, with many a blow of 
lance and sword; the English still defending themselves, 
killing the horses and clea\ang the shields. 

There was a French soldier of noble mien, who sat his 
horse gallantly. He spied two Englishmen who were 
also carrying themselves boldly. They were both men 
of great worth, and had become companions in arms and 
fought together, the one protecting the other. They bore 
two long and broad bills, and did great mischief to the 
Normans, killing both horses and men. The French 
soldier looked at them and their bills, and was sore 
alarmed, for he was afraid of losing his good horse, the 
best that he had; and would willingly have turned to 
some other quarter, if it would not have looked like 
cowardice. He soon, however, recovered his courage, 
and spurring his horse gave him the bridle, and galloped 
swiftly forward. Fearing the two bills, he raised his 
shield, and struck one of the Englishmen with his lance 
on the breast, so that the iron passed out at his back. At 
the moment that he fell, the lance broke, and the 

122 



THE BATTLE OF HASTINGS 

Frenchman seized the mace that hung at his right side, 
and struck the other Englishman a blow that com- 
pletely broke his skull. 

On the other side was an Englishman who much 
annoyed the French, continually assaulting them with 
a keen-edged hatchet. He had a helmet made of wood, 
which he had fastened down to his coat, and laced round 
his neck, so that no blows could reach his head. The 
ravage he was making was seen by a gallant Norman 
knight, who rode a horse that neither lire nor water 
could stop in its career, when its master urged it on. 
The knight spurred, and his horse carried him on well 
till he charged the Englishman, striking him over the 
helmet, so that it fell down ovev his eyes; and as he 
stretched out his hand to raise it and uncover the face, 
the Norman cut off his right hand, so that his hatchet 
fell to the ground. Another Norman sprang forward and 
eagerly seized the prize with both his hands, but he kept 
it little space, and paid dearly for it, for as he stooped 
to pick up the hatchet, an Englishman with his long- 
handled axe struck him over the back, breaking all his 
bones, so that his entrails and lungs gushed forth. The 
knight of the good horse meantime returned without 
injury; but on his way he met another Englishman, and 
bore him down under his horse, wounding him griev- 
ously, and trampling him altogether under foot. 

And now might be heard the loud clang and cry of 
battle, and the clashing of lances. The English stood 
firm in their barricades, and shivered the lances, beat- 
ing them into pieces with their bills and maces. The 
Normans drew their swords, and hewed down the barri- 
cades, and the English in great trouble fell back upon 

123 



THE BOYS' BOOK OF BATTLES 

their standard, where were collected the maimed and 
wounded. 

There were many knights of Chauz, who jousted and 
made attacks. The English knew not how to joust, or 
bear arms on horseback, but fought with hatchets and 
bills. A man, when he wanted to strike with one of their 
hatchets, was obliged to hold it with both his hands, 
and could not at the same time, as it seems to me, both 
cover himself and strike with any freedom. 

The English fell back towards the standard which 
was upon a rising ground, and the Normans followed 
them across the valley, attacking them on foot and 
horseback. Then Hue de Mortemer, with the sires 
D'Auviler, D'Onebac, and St. Cler, rode up and charged, 
overthrowing many. 

Robert Fitz Erneis fixed his lance, took his shield, 
and, galloping towards the standard, with his keen- 
edged sword struck an Englishman who was in front, 
killed him, and then drawing back his sword, attacked 
many others, and pushed straight for the standard, 
tr}dng to beat it down, but the English surrounded it, 
and killed him with their bills. He was found on the 
spot, when they afterwards sought for him, dead, and 
lying at the standard's foot. 

Duke WilHam pressed close upon the English with 
his lance; striving hard to reach the standard with the 
great troop he led; and seeking earnestly for Harold, on 
whose account the whole war was. The Normans follow 
their lord, and press around him; they ply their blows 
upon the English ; and these defend themselves stoutly, 
striving hard with their enemies, returning blow for 
blow. 

124 



THE BATTLE OF HASTINGS 

One of them was a man of great strength, a wrestler, 
who did great mischief to the Normans with his hatchet; 
all feared him, for he struck down a great many Normans. 
The duke spurred on his horse, and aimed a blow at 
him, but he stooped, and so escaped the stroke; then 
jumping on one side, he lifted his hatchet aloft, and as 
the duke bent to avoid the blow, the Englishman boldly 
struck him on the head, and beat in his helmet, though 
without doing much injury. He was very near falling, 
however, but bearing on his stirrups he recovered him- 
self immediately; and when he thought to have re- 
venged himself upon the churl by killing him, he had 
escaped, dreading the duke's blow. He ran back in 
among the English, but he was not safe even there; for 
the Normans seeing him, pursued and caught him; and 
having pierced him through and through with their 
lances, left him dead on the ground. 

Where the throng of the battle was greatest, the men 
of Kent and Essex fought wondrously well, and made 
the Normans again retreat, but without doing them 
much injury. And when the duke saw his men fall back, 
and the English triumphing over them, his spirit rose 
high, and he seized his shield and his lance, which a 
vassal handed to him, and took his post by his standard. 

Then those who kept close guard by him and rode 
where he rode, being about a thousand armed men, 
came and rushed with closed ranks upon the English; 
and with the weight of their good horses, and the blows 
the knights gave, broke the press of the enemy, and 
scattered the crowd before them, the good duke leading 
them on in front. Many pursued and many fled ; many 
were the Englishmen who fell around, and were tram- 

125 



THE BOYS' BOOK OF BATTLES 

pled under the horses, crawling upon the earth, and not 
able to rise. Many of the richest and noblest men fell 
in that rout, but the English still rallied in places; smote 
down those whom they reached, and maintained the 
combat the best they could ; beating dov/n the men and 
killing the horses. One Englishman watched the duke, 
and plotted to kill him ; he would have struck him with 
his lance, but he could not, for the duke struck him first, 
and felled him to the earth. 

Loud was now the clamor, and great the slaughter; 
many a soul then quitted the body it inhabited. The 
living marched over the heaps of dead, and each side 
was weary of striking. He charged on who could, and he 
who could no longer strike still pushed forward. The 
strong struggled with the strong; some failed, others 
triumphed ; the cowards fell back, the brave pressed on ; 
and sad was his fate who fell in the midst, for he had 
little chance of rising again; and many in truth fell, who 
never rose at all, being crushed under the throng. 

And now the Normans pressed on so far, that at last 
they had reached the standard. There Harold had re- 
mained, defending himself to the utmost; but he was 
sorely woimded in his eye by the arrow, and suffered 
grievous pain from the blow. An armed man came in 
the throng of the battle, and struck him on the ventaille 
of his helmet, and beat him to the ground ; and as he 
sought to recover himself, a knight beat him down 
again, striking him on the thick of his thigh, down to 
the bone. 

Gurth saw the English falling around, and that there 
w^s no remedy. He saw his race hastening to ruin, and 
despaired of any aid; he would have fled, but could not, 

126 



THE BATTLE OF HASTINGS 

for the throng continually increased. And the duke 
pushed on till he reached him, and struck him with great 
force. Whether he died of that blow I know not, but it 
was said that he fell imder it, and rose no more. 

The standard was beaten down, the golden standard 
was taken, and Harold and the best of his friends were 
slain; but there was so much eagerness, and throng of 
so many around, seeking to kill him, that I know not 
who it was that slew him. 

The English were in great trouble at having lost their 
king, and at the duke's having conquered and beat 
down the standard; but they still fought on, and de- 
fended themselves long, and in fact till the day drew to 
a close. Then it clearly appeared to all that the standard 
was lost, and the news had spread throughout the army 
that Harold for certain was dead ; and all saw that there 
was no longer any hope, so they left the field, and those 
fled who could. 



THE BATTLE OF CRECY 

[1346] 

BY SIR JOHN FROISSART 

The English, who were drawn up in three divisions and 
seated on the ground, on seeing their enemies advance, 
rose undauntedly up and fell into their ranks. That of 
the prince was the first to do so, whose archers were 
formed in the manner of a portculhs or harrow, and the 
men-at-arms in the rear. The earls of Northampton 
and Arundel, who commanded the second division, had 
posted themselves in good order on his wing, to assist 
and succor the prince if necessary. 

You must know that these kings, earls, barons, and 
lords of France did not advance in any regular order, but 
one after the other, or any way most pleasing to them- 
selves. As soon as the King of France came in sight of 
the English, his blood began to boil, and he cried out to 
his marshals, " Order the Genoese forward and begin 
the battle, in the name of God and St. Denis." There 
were about fifteen thousand Genoese crossbowmen; but 
they were quite fatigued, having marched on foot that 
day six leagues, completely armed, and with their cross- 
bows. They told the constable they were not in a fit 
condition to do any great things that day in battle. The 
Earl of Alengon, hearing this, said, "This is what one 
gets by employing such scoundrels, who fall off when 
there is any need for them." During this time a heavy 
rain fell, accompanied by thunder and a very terrible 

128 



THE BATTLE OF CRECY 

eclipse of the sun; and before this rain a great flight of 
crows hovered in the air over all those battalions, mak- 
ing a loud noise. Shortly afterwards it cleared up, and 
the sun shone very bright; but the Frenchmen had it in 
their faces, and the English in their backs. When the 
Genoese were somewhat in order, and approached the 
English, they set up a loud shout, in order to frighten 
them; but they remained quite still, and did not seem to 
attend to it. They then set up a second shout, and ad- 
vanced a little forward; but the English never moved. 

They hooted a third time, advancing with their cross- 
bows presented, and began to shoot. The English arch- 
ers then advanced one step forward, and shot their 
arrows with such force and quickness that it seemed 
as if it snowed. When the Genoese felt these arrows, 
which pierced their arms, heads, and through their 
armor, some of them cut the strings of their crossbows, 
others flung them on the ground, and all turned about 
and retreated quite discomfited. The French had a fine 
body of men-at-arms on horseback, richly dressed, to 
support the Genoese. The King of France, seeing them 
thus fall back, cried out, " Kill me those scoundrels; for 
they stop up our road without any reason." You would 
then have seen the above-mentioned men-at-arms lay 
about them, killing all they could of these runaways. 

The English continued shooting as vigorously and 
quickly as before; some of their arrows fell among the 
horsemen, who were sumptuously equipped, and, killing 
and wounding many, made them caper and fall among 
the Genoese so that they were in such confusion they 
could never rally again. In the English army there 
were some Cornish and Welsh men on foot, who had 

129 



THE BOYS' BOOK OF BATTLES 

anned themselves with large knives: these advancing 
through the ranks of the men-at-arms and archers, who 
made way for them, came upon the French when they 
were in this danger, and falling upon earls, barons, 
knights, and squires slew many, at which the King of 
England was afterwards much exasperated. 

The valiant King of Bohemia was slain there. He was 
called Charles of Luxembourg; for he was the son of the 
gallant king and Emperor, Hem^ of Luxembourg: hav- 
ing heard the order of the battle, he inquired where his 
son, the Lord Charles, was: his attendants answered that 
they did not know, but believed he was fighting. The 
king said to them: " Gentlemen, you are all my people, 
my friends and brethren at arms this day : therefore, as I 
am blind, I request of you to lead me so far into the en- 
gagement that I may strike one stroke with my sword." 
The knights replied, they would lead him forward; and 
in order that they might not lose him in the crowd, they 
fastened all the reins of their horses together, and put 
the king at their head, that he might gratify his wish, 
and advanced toward the enemy. The Lord Charles of 
Bohemia, who already signed his name as King of Ger- 
many and bore the arms, had come in good order to the 
engagement; but when he perceived that it was likely to 
turn out against the French, he departed, and I do not 
well know what road he took. The king, his father, had 
ridden in among the enemy, and made good use of his 
sword; for he and his companions had fought most 
gallantly. They had advanced so far that they were all 
slain ; and on the morrow they were found on the ground 
with their horses all tied together. 

The E^rl of Alengon advanced in regular order upon 




THE BATTLE OF CRfiCY 

the English, to fight with them; as did the Earl of Flan- 
ders, in another part. These two lords with their de- 
tachments coasting, as it were, the archers, came to the 
prince's battalion, where they fought vahantly for a 
length of time. The King of France was eager to march 
to the place where he saw their banners displayed, but 
there was a hedge of archers before him. He had that 
day made a present of a handsome black horse to Sir 
John of Hainault, who had mounted on it a knight of his, 
called Sir John de Fusselles, that bore his banner: which 
horse ran away with him, and forced his way through 
the English army and, when about to return, stumbled 
and fell into a ditch and severely wounded him: he 
would have been dead if his page had not followed him 
round the battalions, and found him unable to rise: he 
had not, however, any other hindrance than from his 
horse; for the English did not quit the ranks that day 
to make prisoners. The page alighted, and raised him 
up; but he did not return the way he came, as he would 
have found it difiicult from the crowd. This battle, 
which was fought on the Saturday between La Broyes 
and Crecy, was very murderous and cruel; and many 
gallant deeds of arms were performed that were never 
known. Toward evening, many knights and squires of 
the French had lost their masters: they wandered up 
and down the plain, attacking the EngHsh in small par- 
ties: they WTre soon destroyed; for the English had de- 
termined that day to give no quarter or hear of ransom 
from any one. 

Early in the day, some French, Germans, and Savoy- 
ards had broken through the archers of the prince's 
battahon, and had engaged with the men-at-arms; upon 

131 



THE BOYS' BOOK OF BATTLES 

vvliich the second battalion came to his aid, and it was 
time, for otherwise he would have been hard pressed. 
The first division, seeing the danger they were in, sent 
a knight in great haste to the King of England, who was 
posted upon an eminence near a windmill. On the 
knight's arrival, he said, "Sir, the Earl of Warwick, the 
Lord Reginald Cobham, and the others who are about 
your son are vigorously attacked by the French; and they 
entreat that you would come to their assistance with 
your battalion, for, if their numbers should increase, they 
fear he will have too much to do." The king replied, "Is 
my son dead, unhorsed, or so badly wounded that he 
cannot support himself?" "Nothing of the sort, thank 
God," rejoined the knight; "but he is in so hot an en- 
gagement that he has great need of your help." The 
king answered, "Now, Sir Thomas, return back to those 
that sent you, and tell them from me not to send again 
for me this day or expect that I shall come, let what will 
happen, as long as my son has life; and say that I com- 
mand them to let the boy win his spurs, for I am deter- 
mined, if it please God, that all the glory and honor of 
this day shall be given to him and to those into whose 
care I have entrusted him." The knight returned to his 
lords and related the king's answer, which mightily en- 
couraged them, and made them repent they had ever 
sent such a message. . . . 

When, on the Saturday night, the English heard no 
more hooting or shouting, nor any more crying out to 
particular lords or their banners, they looked upon the 
field as their own, and their enemies as beaten. They 
made great fires and lighted torches because of the 
obscurity of the night. King Edward then came down 



THE BATTLE OF CRECY 

from his post, who all that day had not put on his hel~ 
met, and with his whole battalion advanced to the Prince 
of Wales, whom he embraced in his arms and kissed, and 
said," Sweet son, God give you good perseverance: you 
are my son, for most loyally have you acquitted yourself 
this day: you are worthy to be a sovereign." The prince 
bowed down very low, and humbled himself, giving all 
the honor to the king his father. 



THE DEATH OF WINKELRIED 

[1386] 

BY WALTER THORNBURY 

[In the fourteenth century a number of the districts of 
Switzerland joined together for defense against the Haps- 
burg rulers of Austria. The power of the league grew rapidly ; 
and the determination of Austria to crush these rebellious 
peasants increased no less rapidly. In 1386 came the battle 
of Sempach, The Swiss with their wooden bucklers were at 
first helpless to make any break in the Austrian wall of 
bristling spears; but in the end they triumphed and drove 
the Austrians from the field. According to tradition, it was 
the devotion of Arnold von Winkelried that opened the way 
to victory. 

The Editor] 

In July, when the bees swarmed thick upon the linden 
tops, 

And farmers gazed with pride and joy upon their ripen- 
ing crops, 

The watchmen on our tall church towers, looking to- 
wards Willisow, 

Saw the stacked barley in a flame and the wheat-fields 
in a glow. 

For Archduke Leopold had come from Zurich by the 

lake, 
With lance, and bow, and banner spread, a dire revenge 

to take. 

134 



THE DEATH OF WINKELRIED 

On Monday morning, when the dew lay bright upon the 

corn, 
Each man of Sempach blew alarm upon his mountain 

horn. 

The young and old from fair Lucerne gathered to bar 

the way, 
The reapers threw their sickles down, and ran to join 

the fray: 
We knelt and prayed to heaven for strength, crying tO' 

God aloud; 
And lo ! a rainbow rising shone against a thunder-cloud. 

Burghers of Berne, the lads of Schweitz, and Unter- 

walden's best. 
Warriors of Uri, strong as bulls, were there among the 

rest; 
The oldest of our mountain priests had come to fight, — 

not pray. 
Our women only kept at home upon that battle-day. 

The shepherds, sturdy wrestlers with the grim moun- 
tain bear, 

The chamois hunters, lithe and swift, mingle together 
there; 

Rough boatmen from the mountain lakes, and fisher- 
men by scores; 

The children only had been left to guard the nets and oars.. 

The herdsmen joined us from their huts on the far 

mountain-side, 
Where cow-bells chimed among the pines, and far above 

in pride 

135 



THE BOYS' BOOK OF BATTLES 

The granite peaks rose soaring up in snowy pinnacles, 
Past glaciers' ever-gaping jaws and vultures' citadels. 

The citizens of Zurich town under their banners stood, 

Their burly lances bleak and bare as any winter wood ; 

Geneva sent her archers stout, and swordsmen not a 
few, 

And over the brave men of Berne their great to^n ban- 
ner blew. 

How fierce we ran with partisan and axe and spear and 

sword. 
With flail and club and shrieking horns, upon that 

Austrian horde! 
But they stood silent in the sun, mocking the Switzer 

bear, 
Their helmets crested, beaked, and fanged, like the 

wild beasts they were. 

Like miners digging iron ore from some great mountain 

heart, 
We strove to hew and rend and cleave that hill of steel 

apart; 
But clamped like statues stood the knights in their 

spiked phalanx strong. 
Though our Swiss halberds and our swords hewed 

fiercely at the throng. 

Hot, sharp, and thick our arrows fell upon their helmet 

crests, 
Keen on their visors' glaring bars, and sharp upon their 

breasts; 

136 



THE DEATH OF WINKELRIED 

Fierce plied our halberds at the spears, that thicker 

seemed to grow: 
The more we struck, more boastfully the banners 

seemed to blow. 

The Austrians, square and close locked up, stood firm 

with threatening spears. 
Only the sterner when our bolts flew thick about their 

ears; 
Our drifts of arrows blinding fell, and nailed the mail 

to breast. 
But e'en the dead men as they dropped were ramparts 

to the rest. 

With furnace heat the red sun shone upon that wall of 

steel. 
And crimsoned every Austrian knight from helmet unto 

heel. 
They slew their horses where they stood, and shortened 

all their spears, 
Then back to back, like boars at bay, they mocked our 

angry cheers. 

Till Winkelried stepped forth, and said, knitting his 

rugged brow, 
"Out on ye, men of Zurich town! go back and tend your 

plough; 
Sluggards of Berne, go hunt and fish, when danger is 

not nigh ; 
See now how Unterwalden taught her hardy sons to 

die!" 

,137 



THE BOYS' BOOK OF BATTLES 

Then out he rushed with head bent low; his body, 
breast, and hands 

Bore down a sheaf of spears, and made a pathway for 
our bands. 

Four lances splintered on his brow, six shivered in his 
side, 

But still he struggled fiercely on, and, shouting "Vic- 
tory!" died. 

Then on that broken, flying rout, we Swiss, rejoicing, 

rushed, 
With sword and mace and partisan that struck and 

stabbed and crushed; 
Their banners beaten to the earth, and all their best 

men slain, 
The Austrians threw away their shields and fled across 

the plain. 

And thus our Switzerland was saved, upon that sum- 
mer's day, 

And Sempach saw rejoicing men returning from the 
fray. 

As we bore home brave Winkelried a rainbow spanned 
our track. 

But where the Austrian rabble fled a thunder-storm 
rolled black. 



THE BALLAD OF AGINCOURT 

[1415] 

BY MICHAEL DRAYTON 

Fair stood the wind for France, 
When we our sails advance, 
Nor now to prove our chance 

Longer will tarry. 
But putting to the main, 
At Caux, the mouth of Seine, 
With all his martial train, 

Landed King Harry. 

And taking many a fort. 
Furnished in warlike sort, 
Marcheth towards Agincourt, 

In happy hour; 
Skirmishing day by day 
With those that stopped his way, 
Where the French general lay 

With all his power. 

Which in his height of pride, 
King Henry to deride, 
His ransom to provide 

To the king sending; 
Which he neglects the while. 
As from a nation vile, 
Yet with an angry smile 

Their fall portending; 

139 



THE BOYS' BOOK OF BATTLES 

And turning to his men, 
Quoth our brave Harry then, 
"Though they be one to ten, 

Be not amazed; 
Yet have we well begun, 
Battles so bravely won 
Have ever to the sun 

By fame been raised. 

"And for myself," quoth he, ^ 
" This my full rest shall be, 
England ne'er mourn for me, 

Nor more esteem me. 
Victor I will remain, 
Or on this earth lie slain. 
Never shall she sustain 
Loss to redeem me. 

"Poitiers and Cressy tell, 
When most their pride did swell. 
Under our swords they fell. 

No less our skill is. 
Than when our grandsire-great, 
Claiming the regal seat. 
By many a warlike feat 

Lopped the French lilies." 

The Duke of York so dread 
The eager va'ward led ; 
With the main, Henry sped. 
Amongst his henchmen. 
140 



MORNING OF THE BATTLE OF AGINCOURT 



THE BALLAD OF AGINCOURT 

Exeter had the rear, 
A braver man not there, 
O lord, how hot they were 
On the false Frenchmen! 



They now to fight are gone. 
Armor on armor shone, 
Drum now to drum did groan, 

To hear, was wonder; 
That with the cries they make, 
The very earth did shake. 
Trumpet to trumpet spake, 

Thunder to thunder. 

Well it thine age became, 
O noble Erpingham, 
Which didst the signal aim 

To our hid forces; 
When from a meadow by, 
Like a storm suddenly, 
The English archery 

Struck the French horses. 

With Spanish yew so strong, 
Arrows a cloth-yard long, 
That like to serpents stung, 

Piercing the weather; 
None from his fellow starts. 
But playing manly parts, 
And like true English hearts, 

Stuck close together. 

141 



THE BOYS' BOOK OF BATTLES 

When down their bows they threw, 
And forth their bilbos drew, 
And on the French they flew, 

Not one was tardy; 
Arms were from shoulders sent, 
Scalps to the teeth were rent, 
Down the French peasants went. 

Our men were hardy. 

This while our noble king. 
His broadsword brandishing, 
Down the French host d.id ding, 

As to o'erwhelm it, 
And many a deep wound lent. 
His arms with blood besprent. 
And many a cruel dent 

Bruised his helmet. 

Gloucester, that duke so good. 
Next of the royal blood. 
For famous England stood. 

With his brave brother; 
Clarence, in steel so bright. 
Though but a maiden knight, 
Yet in that furious fight 

Scarce such another. 

Warwick in blood did wade, 
Oxford the foe invade, 
And cruel slaughter made. 
Still as they ran up; 
142 



THE BALLAD OF AGINCOURT 

Suffolk his axe did ply, 
Beaumont and Willoughby 
Bare them right doughtily, 
Ferrers and Fanhope. 

Upon Saint Crispin's day 
Fought was this noble fray, 
Which fame did not delay 

To England to carry; 
Oh, when shall Englishmen 
With such acts fill a pen, 
Or England breed again 

Such a King Harry? 



THE BATTLE OF BOSWORTH FIELD 

[1485I 

BY OWEN EHOSCOMYL 

[Toward the end of the fifteenth century Richard III suc- 
ceeded in usurping the throne of England. His tyranny and 
tlie crimes by which he had accompKshed his object so 
aroused the English people that they invited Henry Tudor, 
a descendant of John of Gaunt and also of Owen Tudor, a 
Welsh gentleman who had married the widow of Henry V, to 
become their sovereign. He landed at Milford in 1485, and 
was soon engaged in a fierce battle with Richard at Bos- 
worth. Henry was successful and was crowned on the battle- 
field as Henry VII. 

The Editor.] 

Cloudily dawned the morning of that Monday, 
August 22, 1485, when Henry Tudor drew out the host 
of his gallant countrymen for the battle that was to 
close a thousand years of struggle. It was to close 
more; it was to close the mediaeval period of British 
history, and to open the modern day, the day of our 
own empire. 

Richard III, king that morning, drew out his host 
from its tents at Sutton, and saw, two miles to his left 
front, the host of Henry, king that night. To his right 
front, on Hanging Hill at Nether Coton, he saw the 
host of Sir William Stanley, the men of Northeast 
Cymru. On his immediate right lay Lord Stanley's men. 

144 



THE BATTLE OF BOSWORTH FIELD 

He sent to order Lord Stanley to join him, but Lord 
Stanley would not come. 

Then Richard measured what he had to do. His army 
was nearly equal in numbers to all the other three com- 
bined. It was far better equipped and armored. More- 
over, it was composed for the most part of veteran 
troops; there were no sweepings of jails and hospitals 
with him, like the men that Henry had brought from 
France. 

The ground, too, was all in Richard's favor. In front 
of him ran out the long tongue of Anbian Hill. Round 
it, on the north and west, lay a long, winding marsh, 
between him and the other armies. That marsh could 
only be crossed at Sandeford, where the ancient track- 
way, which he had followed from Stapleton, ran on 
down from Anbian Hill to Shenton and Henry's camp. 
Therefore he would take up a position on the end of the 
ridge of Anbian Hill, overlooking Sandeford crossing, 
and there wait Henry's coming. Richard was one of the 
best generals of his day. 

But if he were to march straight off to do it, then Lord 
Stanley, yonder on his right, might swing round the 
head of the marsh, and attack him from behind, just 
when the others attacked him in front. That would 
mean certain defeat. Therefore he commanded the 
Earl of Northumberland, whose men were as many as 
Lord Stanley's, to stand fast where he was, and keep 
Lord Stanley off. Then, with his eight thousand and 
more of veterans, he set forward along the ridge of 
Anbian Hill. 

Henry Tudor, as he drew out his men from the camp 
at Whitemoor, could look across the marsh and see the 

145 



THE BOYS' BOOK OF BATTLES 

plain of Redmoor beyond it, swelling up into the crest of 
Anbian Hill. On that crest he could see the front of 
Richard's army, one wide wave of glittering steel, rang- 
ing into position. He saw what Richard intended. He 
knew that he himself must cross the marsh and attack 
Anbian Hill. 

Every disadvantage was with Henry. His own men, 
including the worthless foreigners, were not nearly so 
many as Richard's. He had sent for Lord Stanley, and 
Lord Stanley had refused to come to him. But he still 
trusted Sir William Stanley, for Sir William's men were 
Cymry. 

He knew that the marsh could only be crossed at 
Sandeford. The ancient trackway from his camp led to 
that crossing, and onward to Richard's position. The 
track would lead him the right way then; the marsh 
would protect his right flank while he marched to Sande- 
ford, and there, when he turned the head of the column 
to the right to cross the Httle stream, the troops of Sir 
William Stanley would be but a mile or so away, behind 
him on Hanging Hill. Then Sir William could follow 
him on over the crossing and Join him in the attack. It 
was the only plan, now, — and he marched to carry it 
out. 

When he came to Sandeford, he led the way across the 
marsh to array his men on Redmoor beyond. Still no 
Stanley came. But it was ten o'clock, and the battle 
must be fought, Stanley or no Stanley. Above him rose 
the steel-crowned crest of Anbian, and the harvest sun 
shone dazzingly into the eyes of his archers as they 
faced the slope. Behind them was the wide marsh to 
cut them off from retreat or flight if they were beaten. 

146 



THE BATTLE OF BOSWORTH FIELD 

They were few and the foes were many. They were on 
the low ground, and the foe with his cannon was on the 
high ground. To attack now would be boldness, indeed. 
But they were bold hearts; they attacked. 

When the order was given to prepare — "Lord!" says 
the old chronicler, "how hastily the soldiers buckled on 
their helms; how quickly the archers bent their bows 
and flushed the feathers of their arrows; how readily 
the billmen shook their bills and proved their staves, 
ready to approach and join, when the terrible trumpet 
should sound the blast to victory or death." 

The chronicler used the right word there. It was a 
case of victory or death to the leaders. For Henry was 
striking for the crown that meant life and safety to him. 
The exiles were striking for the home that was the only 
place in the world for them. The Cymry were striking, 
in the fire of a pride that nothing could kill. Well might 
Richard feel haunted. 

He looked at all the Cymric banners ranged against 
him, and he called for a bowl of Burgundy, and turned 
to his squire, Rhys Vychan. 

"Here, Vychan," he cried, "I drink to thee; the truest 
Welshman that ever I found in Wales." And with the 
words he drank the wine, threw the bowl behind him, 
and gave the word for the onset. 

His van was stretched from the marsh on the right to 
the marsh on the left — "a very terrible company to 
them that should see them afar off," says the chronicler. 
In the center were the archers, and on either hand of 
them two wings of men-at-arms, covered with steel 
from top to toe. Behind them on the hill were Richard 
and his main body with the cannon. 

147 



THE BOYS' BOOK OF BATTLES 

Henry's van was thin, because his men were fewer. 
But they were enough. The trumpet blew, the soldiers 
shouted, the king's archers let fly their arrows. But 
Henry's bowmen stood not still, they paid them back 
again. Then, the terrible shot once over, the armies 
came to handstrokes, and the matter v/as dealt with 
blades. 

Henry's tactics were all boldness. He still felt that 
Sir William Stanley's m.en must come in, for they were 
Cymry, too, unhke Lord Stanley's. Therefore he pressed 
the fight on Richard's left till his van had outflanked it. 
By this movement he could face the slope now with the 
sun at his back, while it shone in the faces of Richard's 
men, dazzling their eyes in turn. By this movement, 
too, he had got Richard's army between him and Sir 
William Stanley, so that it would be taken in front and 
rear when Stanley charged — a thing that would mean 
complete disaster for Richard. 

Richard saw that, and with his cavalry swung round 
to comg on Henry's right flank and rear. But there was 
another green spread of m.arsh (where now wave Anbian 
Woods) and it was too soft. His good white horse stuck 
fast. Shouting for another horse he mounted again, and 
led the thundering charge straight at Henry's flank. 
But Earl Jasper was watching. He had the main body 
of Henry's men under him, the men of old Deheubarth, 
and while the gallant Earl of Oxford continued the fight 
in the van, against the Duke of Norfolk, Jasper faced 
his men to meet the desperate Richard, and beat back 
his furious onset. Thus, "in array triangle," the fight 
raged on. 

Keenly Henry watched the fight. Now or never was 
148 



THE BATTLE OF BOSWORTH FIELD 

the moment. Where was Will Stanley with his Cymry? 
In his anxiety he rode back, attended only by his body- 
guard and standard-bearer, towards Sandeford, to 
where he could see if Will Stanley were coming. And as 
he drew rein to look, one of Richard's men saw him and 
sped away with the news to his master. 

Richard was pausing for a drink from the spring, 
which is to this day called "King Richard's Well," 
when the word was brought to him. He saw at once 
that he had stiU one last desperate chance. If he could 
reach and kill Henry, then the victory would be his, 
seeing that there would be no one left for Henry's men 
to fight for. He seized the chance. "Let all true knights 
follow me," he shouted, and spurred away over the kill 
to where he should find Henry. 

Fast poured the flower of Richard's knights after him 
while Henry's bodyguard saw the onset coming and 
closed its ranks to defend him. Richard marked the 
great standard that Sir William Brandon bore, and he 
charged upon it Hke a demon. He unhorsed huge Sir 
John Cheyney who tried to bar his way. Lie slew the 
standard-bearer, and laid a hand upon the standard 
itself. But giant Rhys ap Meredydd, of Nant Conwy, 
seized it from him and drove him back a breadth, while 
Henry himself met him with a fury that astonished 
friend and foe. 

Richard raged like a madman, but it was all too late 
now. Sir William's men were here at last, Richard ap 
Hov/el, of Most3Ti, with the rest and best. King Richard 
was borne back, fighting like ten men, yet still borne 
back. His horse fell; his lords and knights were dead or 
dying fast around him. Still he raged on. Then came 

149 



THE BOYS' BOOK OF BATTLES 

Dark Rhys ap Thomas, seeking the king who had once 
threatened him, and tradition still tells how the blade 
of Dark Rhys ended the life of the last Norman king, 
Richard III. 

The fall of Richard was the end of the battle, too, for 
all his men fled at that. Northumberland laid down his 
arms — there was no more to fight for. Lord Stanley 
whose troops had never struck a blow, hurried over to 
Henry, whose men were following the flight of the van- 
quished. 

But all was not done yet. The long, fierce dream of the 
stubborn Cymry was to be fulfilled to the very letter. 
They had come into England to win the crown of Britain 
back for one of the old blood of its founder. They did it 
in very deed. For when the chase was ended, the crown 
of dead King Richard was found in a hawthorn bush, 
and Lord Stanley lifted it and placed it on the head of 
Henry. 

Thus was the long dream fulfilled. The crown of 
Britain was come back to the descendant of its founder 
at last. And the wild shout of triumph with which the 
victors hailed their countryman king is remembered to 
this day in the name of the field in which they stood and 
watched him crowned. Its name means "The Field of 
the Shout." 

You may still see the stone whereon that crowning 
took place. It is in Stoke Golding, and the spot is still 
called "Crown Flill," in memory of the only time that 
ever a King of England was crowned on the field of 
battle. 

Lost in battle, that crown had come back in battle. 
Did the bones of all the slain generations of the Cymry 

ISO 



THE BATTLE OF BOSWORTH FIELD 

who had struggled for this day stir in their red graves 
at that shout? Surely their spirits knew when the work 
was done at last. Surely a sound like the moving of 
a mighty wind must have swept over Cymru, for the 
ghosts of all the heroes, slain in the battles of the thou- 
sand years of struggle, could leave their graves at last 
and go to God — the long work done, the victory won; 
the **Nunc Dimittis" chanted o'er the mountains as 
they passed. 



ON THE FIELD OF FLODDEN 

[1513] 

BY SIR WALTER SCOTT 

[Margaret Tudor, sister of Henry VIII of England,became 
the wife of James IV of Scotland. Now, there were certain 
jewels which were to be given to Margaret, but Henry refused 
to send them to her. Naturally, that aroused the wrath of 
ELing James. Moreover, although the two countries were at 
peace, the Lord High Admiral of England seized two Scot- 
tish ships, and Henry refused to pay for their loss. Again, 
Henry was about to make war on France, and as France and 
Scotland were good friends, James stood by France. He 
crossed the border and captured some English castles. At 
last, in September, I5i3,the Scots and English met at Flod- 
den Field. 

The Editor :\ 

"But, see! look up — on Flodden bent, 
The Scottish foe has fired his tent." — 

And sudden, as he spoke, 
From the sharp ridges of the hill, 
All downward to the banks of Till, 

Was wreathed in sable smoke : 
Volumed, and vast, and rolUng far, 
The cloud enveloped Scotland's war, 

As dowTi the hill they broke; 
Nor martial shout, nor minstrel tone, 
Announced their march; their tread alone 
At times one warning trumpet blowTi, 

At times a stifled hum, 

152 



ON THE FIELD OF FLODDEN 

Told England, from his mountain- throne 

King James did rushing come. — 
Scarce could they hear or see their foes, 
Until at weapon-point they close. — 
They close, in clouds of smoke and dust, 
With sword-sway and with lance's thrust; 

And such a yell was there. 
Of sudden and portentous birth, 
As if men fought upon the earth,* 

And fiends in upper air. 
Long looked the anxious squires; their eye 
Could in the darkness naught descry. 
At length the freshening western blast 
Aside the shroud of battle cast; 
And, first, the ridge of mingled spears 
Above the brightening cloud appears; 
And in the smoke the pennons flew, 
As in the storm the white sea-mew. 
Then marked they, dashing broad and far, 
The broken billows of the war, 
And plumed crests of chieftains brave, 
Floating like foam upon the wave 

But naught distinct they see ; 
Wide raged the battle on the plain, 
Spears shook, and falchions flashed amain, 
Fell England's arrow-flight like rain. 
Crests rose, and stooped, and rose again. 

Wild and disorderly. 
Amid the scene of tumult, high 
They saw Lord Marmion's falcon fly: 
And stainless Tunstall's banner white. 
And Edmund Howard's lion bright, 

1S3 



THE BOY'S BOOK OF BATTLES 

Still bear them bravely in the fight;, 

Although against them come, 
Of gallant Gordons many a one, 
And many a stubborn Highlandman, 
And many a rugged Border clan, 

With Huntley, and with Home. 
Far on the left, unseen the while, 
Stanley broke Lennox and Argyle, 
Though there the western mountaineer 
Rushed with bare bosom on the spear. 
And flung the feeble targe aside. 
And with both hands the broadsword plied; 
'T was vain. — But Fortune, on the right. 
With fickle smile, cheered Scotland's fight. 
Then fell that spotless banner white, 

The Howard's lion fell: 
Yet still Lord Marmion's falcon flew 
With wavering flight, while fiercer grew 

Around the battle yell. 
The border slogan rent the sky. 
'*A Home! a Gordon!" was the cry; 

Loud were the clanging blows; 
Advanced, — forced back, — now low, now high, 

The pennon sank and rose; 
As bends the bark's mast in the gale, 
When rent are rigging, shrouds, and sail, 

It wavered 'mid the foes. 

• •••••••• 

But as they left the dark'ning heath. 
More desperate grew the strife of death. 
The English shafts in volleys hailed, 
In headlong charge their horse assailed: 

154 



ON THE FIELD OF FLODDEN 

Front, flank, and rear, the squadrons sweep 
To break the Scottish circle deep, 

That fought around their king. 
But yet, though thick the shafts as snow, 
Though charging knights like whirlwinds go, 
Though bill-men ply the ghastly blow, 

Unbroken was the ring; 
The stubborn spearmen still made good 

Their dark, impenetrable wood, 
Each stepping where his comrade stood, 

The instant that he fell. 
No thought was there of dastard flight; — 
Linked in the serried phalanx tight, 
Groom fought like noble, squire like knight, 

As fearlessly and well: 
Till utter darkness closed her wing 
O'er their thin host and wounded king. 
Then skilful Surrey's sage commands 
Led back from strife his shattered bands; 

And from the charge they drew, 
As mountain-waves, from wasted lands, 

Sweep back to ocean blue. 
Then did their loss his foeman know, 
Their king, their lords, their mightiest low. 
They melted from the field as snow, 
When streams are swoln and south winds blow, 
. Dissolves in silent dew. 
Tweed's echoes heard the ceaseless plash, 
While many a broken band. 
Disordered, through her currents dash. 

To gain the Scottish land; 
To town and tower, to down and dale, 

155 



THE BOYS' BOOK OF BATTLES 

To tell red Flodden's dismal tale, 
And raise the universal wail. 
Tradition, legend, tune, and song, 
Shall many an age that wail prolong. 
Still from the sire the son shall hear 
Of the stern strife and carnage drear, 

Of Flodden's fatal field, 
Where shivered was fair Scotland's spear, 

And broken was her shield! 



THE SIEGE OF LEYDEN 

[1574] 

BY JOHN LOTHROP MOTLEY 

This city was one of the most beautiful in the Nether- 
lands. Placed in the midst of broad, fruitful pastures, 
which had been reclaimed by the hand of industry 
from the bottom of the sea, it was fringed with smil- 
ing villages, blooming gardens, fruitful orchards. The 
ancient, and, at last, decrepit Rhine, flowing languidly 
towards its sandy death-bed, had been multiplied into 
innumerable artificial currents, by which the city was 
completely interlaced. These watery streets were shaded 
by lime trees, poplars, and willows, and crossed by one 
hundred and forty-five bridges, mostly of hammered 
stone. The houses were elegant, the squares and streets 
spacious, airy, and clean, the churches and public edi- 
fices imposing, while the whole aspect of the place sug- 
gested thrift, industry, and comfort. Upon an artificial 
elevation, in the center of the city, rose a ruined tower 
of unknown antiquity. By some it was considered to 
be of Roman origin, while others preferred to regard it 
as a work of the Anglo-Saxon Hengist, raised to com- 
memorate his conquest of England. Surrounded by fruit 
trees, and overgrown in the center with oaks, it afforded 
from its mouldering battlements, a charming prospect 
over a wide expanse of level country, with the spires 
of neighboring cities rising in every direction. It was 
from this commanding height, during the long and ter- 

157 



THE BOYS' BOOK OF BATTLES 

rible summer days which were approaching, that many 
an eye was to be strained anxiously seaward, watching 
if yet the ocean had begun to roll over the land. 

[In 1574, the Spaniards under Don Francis Valdez be- 
sieged Leyden, and built so many redoubts around the city 
that there was no hope of succor coming to it by land. Food 
was already becoming scarce when Philip offered to pardon 
his "erring subjects" if they would give up their religion 
and return to the Roman Catholic Church. Half starving 
as they were, they refused. William of Orange held the 
fortress of Poldermaert; between him and the besieged city 
a precarious communication was kept up by carrier-pigeons 
and venturesome messengers called "jumpers." The 
Netherlanders were weak on land, but on the sea they were 
irresistible, and William believed that the only way to save 
the city was to break down the dikes, open the sluice-gates, 
and allow the ocean to roll over the country. Then their 
fleet could sail over the submerged land and bring relief to 
the famishing city. The Hollanders agreed. "Better a 
drowned land than a lost land, " they cried. Money, plate, 
and jewelry poured in that the work might progress. The 
dikes were pierced and the waters poured over the country. 
Admiral Boisot with eight hundred "Sea Beggars," as the 
rebel sailors were called, set out boldly on the new ocean to 
carry food to Leyden, but when almost within sight of the 
city the boats ran aground. Eighteen inches of water were 
needed to float them, and there was no chance of getting it 
unless the wind should shift to the west and roll the ocean 
in through the gaps in the dikes.] 

Meantime, the besieged city was at its last gasp. The 
"burghers had been in a state of uncertainty for many 
days; being aware that the fleet had set forth for their 
relief, but knowing full well the thousand obstacles 
which it had to surmount. They had guessed its 

158 



THE SIEGE OF LEYDEN 

progress by the illumination from the blazing villages; 
they had heard its salvos of artillery on its arrival at 
North Aa ; but since then, all had been dark and mourn- 
ful again, hope and fear, in sickening alternation, dis- 
tracting every breast. They knew that the wind was 
unfavorable, and at the dawn of each day every eye was 
turned wistfully to the vanes of the steeples. So long 
as the easterly breeze prevail-ed, they felt, as they anx- 
iously stood on towers and housetops, that they must 
look in vain for the welcome ocean. Yet, while thus 
patiently waiting, they were literally starving; for even 
the misery endured at Harlem had not reached that 
depth and intensity of agony to which Leyden was now 
reduced. Bread, malt-cake, horse-flesh, had entirely 
disappeared; dogs, cats, rats, and other vermin, were 
esteemed luxuries. A small number of cows, kept as 
long as possible, for their milk, still remained ; but a few 
were killed from day to day, and distributed in minute 
proportions, hardly sufficient to support life among 
the famishing population. Starving wretches swarmed 
daily around the shambles where these cattle were 
slaughtered, contending for any morsel which might 
fall, and lapping eagerly the blood as it ran along the 
pavement; while the hides, chopped and boiled, were 
greedily devoured. Women and children, all day long, 
were seen searching gutters and dunghills for morsels 
of food, which they disputed fiercely with the famish- 
ing dogs. The green leaves were stripped from the trees, 
every living herb was converted into human food, but 
these expedients could not avert starvation. The daily 
mortality was frightful — infants starved to death on 
the maternal breasts, which famine had parched and 

159 



THE BOYS' BOOK OF BATTLES 

withered; mothers dropped dead in the streets, with 
their dead children in their arms. In many a house the 
watchmen, in their rounds, found a whole family of 
corpses, father, mother, and children, side by side, for a 
disorder called the plague, naturally engendered of hard- 
ship and famine, now came, as if in kindness, to abridge 
the agony of the people. The pestilence stalked at noon- 
day through the city, and the doomed inhabitants fell 
like grass beneath its scythe. From six thousand to 
eight thousand human beings sank before this scourge 
alone, yet the people resolutely held out — women and 
men mutually encouraging each other to resist the en- 
trance of their foreign foe — an evil more horrible than 
pest or famine. 

The missives from Valdez, who saw more vividly than 
the besieged could do, the uncertainty of his own posi- 
tion, now poured daily into the city, the enemy becom- 
ing more prodigal of his vows, as he felt that the ocean 
might yet save the victims from his grasp. The inhabi- 
tants, in their ignorance, had gradually abandoned their 
hopes of relief, but they spurned the summons to sur- 
render. Leyden was sublime in its despair. A few mur- 
murs were, however, occasionally heard at the stead- 
fastness of the magistrates, and a dead body was placed 
at the door of the burgomaster, as a silent witness against 
his inflexibility. A party of the more faint-hearted even 
assailed the heroic Adrian Van der Werf with threats 
and reproaches as he passed through the streets. A 
crowd had gathered around him, as he reached a trian- 
gular place in the center of the town, into which many 
of the principal streets emptied themselves, and upon one 
side of which stood the church of Saint Pancras, with its 

i6o 



THE SIEGE OF LEYDEN 

high brick tower surmounted by two pointed turrets, 
ajid with two ancient lime trees at its entrance. There 
stood the burgomaster, a tall, haggard, imposing figure, 
with dark visage, and a tranquil but commanding eye. 
He waved his broad-leaved felt hat for silence, and then 
exclaimed in language which has been almost literally 
preserved, "What would ye, my friends? Why do ye 
murmur that we do not break our vows and surrender 
the city to the Spaniards? a fate more horrible than the 
agony which she now endures. I tell you I have made 
an oath to hold the city, and may God give me strength 
to keep my oath ! I can die but once ; whether by your 
hands, the enemy's, or by the hand of God. My own 
fate is indifferent to me, not so that of the city entrusted 
to my care. I know that we shall starve if not soon 
relieved; but starvation is preferable to the dishonored 
death which is the only alternative. Your menaces 
move me not; my life is at your disposal; here is my 
sword, plunge it into my breast, and divide my flesh 
among you. Take my body to appease your hunger, 
but expect no surrender, so long as I remain alive." 

The words of the stout burgomaster inspired a new 
courage in the hearts of those who heard him, and a 
shout of applause and defiance arose from the famishing 
but enthusiastic crowd. They left the place, after ex- 
changing new vows of fidelity with their magistrate, and 
again ascended tower and battlement to watch for the 
coming fleet. From the ramparts they hurled renewed 
defiance to the enemy. "Ye call us rat-eaters and dog- 
eaters," they cried, "and it is true. So long, then, as ye 
hear dog bark or cat mew within the walls, ye may know 
that the city holds out. And when all has perished but 

i6i 



THE BOYS' BOOK OF BATTLES 

ourselves, be sure that we will each devour our left arm 
retaining our right to defend our women, our liberty, 
and our religion, against the foreign tyrant. Should 
God, in his wrath, doom us to destruction, and deny us 
all relief, even then will we maintain ourselves forever 
against your entrance. When the last hour has come, 
with our own hands we will set fire to the city and perish, 
men, women, and children together in the flames, rather 
than suffer our homes to be polluted and our liberties to 
be crushed." Such words of defiance, thundered daily 
from the battlements, sufficiently informed Valdez as 
to his chance of conquering the city, either by force or 
fraud; but at the same time, he felt comparatively re- 
lieved by the inactivity of Boisot's fleet, which still lay 
stranded at North Aa. "As well," shouted the Span- 
iards derisively to the citizens, — "as well can the 
Prince of Orange pluck the stars from the sky as bring 
the ocean to the walls of Leyden for your relief." 

On the 28th of September, a dove flew into the city, 
bringing a letter from Admiral Boisot. In this dispatch, 
the position of the fleet at North Aa was described in 
encouraging terms, and the inhabitants were assured 
that, in a very few days at farthest, the long-expected 
relief would enter their gates. The letter was read pub- 
licly upon the market-place, and the bells were rung for 
joy. Nevertheless, on the morrow, the vanes pointed to 
the east, the waters, so far from rising, continued to sink, 
and Admiral Boisot was almost in despair. He wrote to 
the prince, that if the spring-tide, now to be expected, 
should not, together with a strong and favorable wind, 
come immediately to their relief, it would be in vain to 
attempt anything further, and that the expedition 

162 



THE SIEGE OF LEYDEN 

would of necessity, be abandoned. The tempest came 
to their relief. A violent equinoctial gale, on the night 
of the ist and 2d of October, came storming from the 
northwest, shifting after a few hours full eight points, 
and then blowing still more violently from the south- 
west. The waters of the North Sea were piled in vast 
masses upon the southern coast of Holland, and then 
dashed furiously landward, the ocean rising over the 
earth, and sweeping with unrestrained power across the 
ruined dikes. 

In the course of twenty-four hours, the fleet at North 
Aa, instead of nine inches, had more than two feet of 
water. No time was lost. The Kirk-way, which had 
been broken through according to the prince's instruc- 
tions, was now completely overflowed, and the fleet 
sailed at midnight, in the midst of the storm and dark- 
ness. A few sentinel vessels of the enemy challenged 
them as they steadily rowed towards Zoeterwoude. The 
answer was a flash from Boisot's cannon, lighting up 
the black waste of waters. There was a fierce midnight 
battle ; a strange spectacle among the branches of those 
quiet orchards, and with the chimney stacks of half- 
submerged farmhouses rising around the contending 
vessels. The neighboring village of Zoeterwoude shook 
with the discharges of the Zealanders' cannon, and the 
Spaniards assembled in that fortress knew that the rebel 
admiral was at last afloat and on his course. The ene- 
my's vessels were soon sunk, and their crews hurled into 
the waves. On went the fleet, sweeping over the broad 
waters which lay between Zoeterwoude and Zwieten. 
As they approached some shallows, which led into the 
great mere, the Zealanders dashed into the sea, and with 

163 



THE BOYS' BOOK OF BATTLES 

sheer strength shouldered every vessel through. Two 
obstacles lay still in their path — the forts of Zoeter- 
woude and Lammen, distant from the city five hundred 
and two hundred and fifty yards respectively. Strong 
redoubts, both well supplied with troops and artillery, 
they were likely to give a rough reception to the light 
flotilla, but the panic, which had hitherto driven their 
foes before the advancing patriots, had reached Zoeter- 
woude. Hardly was the fleet in sight when the Spaniards, 
in the early morning, poured out from the fortress, and 
fled precipitately to the left, along a road which led in 
a westerly direction towards The Hague. Their narrow 
path was rapidly vanishing in the waves, and hundreds 
sank beneath the constantly deepening and treacherous 
flood. The wild Zealanders, too, sprang from their 
vessels upon the crumbling dike and drove their retreat- 
ing foes into the sea. They hurled their harpoons at 
them, with an accuracy acquired in many a polar chase; 
they plunged into the waves in the keen pursuit, attack- 
ing them with boat-hook and dagger. The numbers who 
thus fell beneath these corsairs, who neither gave nor 
took quarter, were never counted, but probably not less 
than a thousand perished. The rest effected their escape 
to The Hague. 

The first fortress was thus seized, dismantled, set on 
fire, and passed, and a few strokes of the oars brought 
the whole fleet close to Lammen. This last obstacle rose 
formidable and frowning directly across their path. 
Swarming as it was with soldiers, and bristling with 
artillery, it seemed to defy the armada either to carry 
it by storm or to pass under its guns into the city. It 
appeared that the enterprise was, after all, to founder 

164 



THE SIEGE OF LEYDEN 

within sight of the long expecting and expected haven. 
Boisot anchored his fleet within a respectful distance, 
and spent what remained of the day in carefully recon- 
noitering the fort, which seemed only too strong. In 
conjunction with Leyderdorp, the headquarters of 
Baldez, a mile and a half distant on the right, and within 
a mile of the city, it seemed so insuperable an impedi- 
ment that Boisot wrote in despondent tone to the 
Prince of Orange. He announced his intention of carry- 
ing the fort, if it were possible, on the following morn- 
ing; but if obliged to retreat, he observed, with some- 
thing like despair, that there would be nothing for it but 
to wait for another gale of wind. If the waters should 
rise sufficiently to enable them to make a wide detour, it 
might be possible, if, in the mean time, Leyden did not 
starve or surrender, to enter its gates from the opposite 
side. 

Meantime, the citizens had grown wild with expecta- 
tion. A dove had been dispatched by Boisot, informing 
them of his precise position, and a number of citizens 
accompanied the burgomaster, at nightfall, towards the 
tower of Hengist. — "Yonder," cried the burgomaster, 
stretching out his hand towards Lammen, "yonder, 
behind that fort, are bread and meat, and brethren in 
thousands. Shall all this be destroyed by the Spanish 
guns, or shall we rush to the rescue of our friends?" 
"We will tear the fortress to fragments with our teeth 
and nails," was the reply, "before the relief, so long 
expected, shall be wrested from us." It was resolved 
that a sortie, in conjunction with the operations of 
Boisot, should be made against Lammen with the earli- 
est dawn. Night descended upon the scene, a pitch- 

165 



THE BOYS' BOOK OF BATTLES 

dark night, full of anxiety to the Spaniards, to the 
armada, to Leyden. Strange sights and sounds occurred 
at different moments to bewilder the anxious sentinels. 
A long procession of lights issuing from the fort was seen 
to flit across the black face of the waters, in the dead of 
night, and the whole of the city wall, between the Cow- 
gate and the Tower of Burgundy, fell with a loud crash. 
The horror-struck citizens thought that the Spaniards 
were upon them at last; the Spaniards imagined the 
noise to indicate a desperate sortie of the citizens. 
Everything was vague and mysterious. 

Day dawned at length after the feverish night, and 
the admiral prepared for the assault. Within the for- 
tress reigned a death-like stillness, which inspired a 
sickening suspicion. Had the city, indeed, been carried 
in the night; had the massacre already commenced; had 
all this labor and audacity been expended in vain? 
Suddenly a man was descried, wading breast-high 
through the water from Lammen towards the fleet, 
while at the same time, one solitary boy was seen to 
wave his cap from the summit of the fort. After a 
moment of doubt, the happy mystery was solved. The 
Spaniards had fled, panic-struck, during the darkness. 
Their position would still have enabled them, with 
firmness, to frustrate the enterprise of the patriots, but 
the hand of God, which had sent the ocean and the 
tempest to the deliverance of Leyden, had struck her 
enemies with terror likewise. The lights which had been 
seen moving during the night were the lanterns of the 
retreating Spaniards, and the boy who was now waving 
his triumphant signal from the battlements had alone 
witnessed the spectacle. So confident was he in the 

i66 



THE SIEGE OF LEYDEN 

conclusion to which it led him, that he had volunteered 
at daybreak to go thither all alone. The magistrates, 
fearing a trap, hesitated for a moment to believe the 
truth, which soon, however, became quite evident. 
Valdez, flying himself from Leyderdorp, had ordered 
Colonel Borgia to retire with all his troops from Lam- 
men. Thus, the Spaniards had retreated at the very 
moment that an extraordinary accident had laid bare a 
whole side of the city for their entrance. The noise of 
the wall, as it fell, only inspired them with fresh alarm ; 
for they believed that the citizens had sallied forth in 
the darkness, to aid the advancing flood in the work of 
destruction. All obstacles being now removed, the fleet 
of Boisot swept by Lammen and entered the city on the 
morning of the 3d of October. Leyden was relieved. 

The quays were lined with the famishing population 
as the fleet rowed through the canals, every human being 
who could stand coming forth to greet the preservers 
of the city. Bread was thrown from every vessel among 
the crowd. The poor creatures who for two months had 
tasted no wholesome human food, and who had literally 
been living within the jaws of death, snatched eagerly 
the blessed gift, at last too liberally bestowed. Many 
choked themselves to death, in the greediness with 
which they devoured their bread; others became ill with 
the effect of plenty thus suddenly succeeding starvation; 
— but these were isolated cases, a repetition of which 
was prevented. The admiral, stepping ashore, was wel- 
comed by the magistracy, and a solemn procession was 
immediately formed. Magistrates and citizens, wild 
Zealanders, emaciated burgher guards, sailors, soldiers, 
women, children — nearly every living person within the 

167 



THE BOYS' BOOK OF BATTLES 

walls, all repaired without delay to the great church, 
stout Admiral Boisot leading the way. The starving and 
heroic city, which had been so firm in its resistance to an 
earthly king, now bent itself in humble gratitude before 
the King of kings. After prayers the whole vast congre- 
gation joined in the thanksgiving hymn. Thousands of 
voices raised the song, but few were able to carry it to 
its conclusion, for the universal emotion, deepened by 
the music, became too full for utterance. The hymn was 
abruptly suspended, while the multitude wept like 
children. This scene of honest pathos terminated, the 
necessary measures for distributing the food and for 
relieving the sick were taken by the magistracy. A note 
dispatched to the Prince of Orange was received by him 
at two o'clock, as he sat in church at Delft. It was of a 
somewhat different purport from that of the letter which 
he had received early in the same day from Boisot; the 
letter in which the admiral had informed him that the 
success of the enterprise depended, after all, upon the 
desperate assault upon a nearly impregnable fort. The 
joy of the prince may be easily imagined, and so soon as 
the sermon was concluded, he handed the letter just 
received to the minister, to be read to the congregation. 
Thus all participated in his joy, and united with him in 
thanksgiving. 



THE BATTLE OF IVRY 

[1590] 

BY THOMAS BABINGTON MACAULAY 

[When Henry of Navarre, a Protestant, inherited the French 
crown, he was opposed by the Catholic Party, led by the 
Duke of Mayenne and aided by Spain and Savoy. In 1590, 
Henry gained a decisive victory over the Duke at Ivry. 
Just before the battle, he said to his troops, *'My children, 
if you lose sight of your colors, rally to my white plume — 
you will always find it in the path to honor and glory." In 
1593, Henry abjured Protestantism and was crowned king. 

The Editor.] 

Now glory to the Lord of Hosts, from whom all glories 
are! 

And glory to our Sovereign Liege, King Henry of Na- 
varre ! 

Now let there be the merry sound of music and the dance, 

Through thy cornfields green, and sunny vines, oh pleas- 
ant land of France ! 

And thou, Rochelle, our own Rochelle, proud city of the 
waters. 

Again let rapture light the eyes of all thy mourning 
daughters. 

As thou wert constant in our ills, be joyous in our joy, 

For cold, and stiff, and still are they who wrought thy 
walls annoy. 

Hurrah ! hurrah ! a single field hath turned the chance of 
war; 

Hurrah! hurrah! for Ivry and King Henry of Navarre. 

169 



THE BOYS' BOOK OF BATTLES 

Oh ! how our hearts were beating, when at the dawn of 

day, 
We saw the army of the League drawn out in long 

array ; 
With all its priest-led citizens, and all its rebel peers. 
And Appenzel's stout infantry, and Egmont's Flemish 

spears. 
There rode the brood of false Lorraine, the curses of our 

land! 
And dark Mayenne was in the midst, a truncheon in his 

hand; 
And, as we looked on them, we thought of Seine's em- 
purpled flood. 
And good Coligny's hoary hair all dabbled with his 

blood; 
And we cried unto the living God, who rules the fate of 

war, 
To fight for his own holy name, and Henry of Navarre. 

The king is come to marshal us, in all his armor drest. 
And he has bound a snow-white plume upon his gallant 

crest: 
He looked upon his people, and a tear was in his eye; 
He looked upon the traitors, and his glance was stern 

and high. 
Right graciously he smiled on us, as rolled from wing to 

wing, 
Down all our line, in deafening shout, "God save our 

lord, the King." 
"And if my standard-bearer fall, as fall full well he 

may — 
For never saw I promise yet of such a bloody fray — 

170 



THE BATTLE OF IVRY 

Press where ye see my white plume shine, amidst the 

ranks of war, 
And be your oriflamme, to-day, the helmet of Navarre." 

Hurrah! the foes are moving! Hark to the mingled 
din 

Of fife, and steed, and trump, and drum, and roaring 
culverin ! 

The fiery Duke is pricking fast across Saint Andre's 
plain, 

With all the hireling chivalry of Guelders and Almayne. 

Now by the lips of those ye love, fair gentlemen of 
France, 

Charge for the golden lilies now, upon them with the 
lance ! 

A thousand spurs are striking deep, a thousand spears 
in rest, 

A thousand knights are pressing close behind the snow- 
white crest; 

And in they burst, and on they rushed, while, like a 
guiding star. 

Amidst the thickest carnage blazed the helmet of Na- 
varre. 

Now God be praised, the day is ours ! Mayenne hath 
turned his rein, 
D'Aumale hath cried for quarter — the Flemish Count 

is slain, 
Their ranks are breaking like thin clouds before a Biscay 

gale; 
The field is heaped with bleeding steeds, and flags, and 
cloven mail ; 

171 



THE BOYS' BOOK OF BATTLES 

And then we thought on vengeance, and all along our 

van, 
" Remember St. Bartholomew," was passed from man 

to man; 
But out spake gentle Henry then, " No Frenchman is 

my foe; 
Down, down with every foreigner; but let your brethren 

go." 
Oh ! was there ever such a knight, in friendship or in war, 
As our sovereign lord, King Henry, the soldier of Na- 
varre ! 

Ho ! maidens of Vienna ! Ho ! matrons of Lucerne ! 

Weep, weep, and rend your hair for those who never 
shall return: 

Ho! Philip, send for charity, thy Mexican pistoles. 

That Antwerp monks may sing a mass for thy poor 
spearmen's souls ! 

Ho! gallant nobles of the League, look that your arms 
be bright! 

Ho ! burghers of St. Genevieve, keep watch and ward to- 
night! 

For our God hath crushed the tyrant, our God hath 
raised the slave, 

And mocked the counsel of the wise and the valor of the 
brave. 

Then glory to his holy name, from whom all glories are; 

And glory to our sovereign lord, King Henry of Navarre. 



THE REVENGE: A BALLAD OF THE FLEET 

BY ALFRED, LORD TENNYSON 

[In 1 591, three years after the defeat of the Invincible 
Armada, an English squadron was lying at the Azores to 
intercept treasure ships bringing back gold from the New 
World when a powerful Spanish fleet sailed into the bay. 
All of the English ships escaped but one, the Revenge. Her 
commander. Sir Richard Grenville, delayed until he could 
get his sick men aboard, and then tried to fight his way out 

alone. 

The Editor.] 

I 

At Floras in the Azores Sir Richard Grenville lay. 

And a pinnace, like a flutter'd bird, came flying from far 
away: 

"Spanish ships of war at sea! we have sighted fifty- 
three!" 

Then sware Lord Thomas Howard: "'Fore God I am 
no coward! 

But I cannot meet them here, for my ships are out 
of gear. 

And the half my men are sick. I must fly, but follow 
quick. 

We are six ships of the line; can we fight with fifty- 
three?" 

n 

Then spake Sir Richard Grenville: "I know you are 

no coward; 
You fly them for a moment to fight with them again. 
But I Ve ninety men and more that are lying sick ashore. 

173 



THE BOYS' BOOK OF BATTLES 

I should count myself the coward if I left them, my 

Lord Howard, 
To these Inquisition dogs and the devildoms of Spain." 

Ill 

So Lord Howard passed away with five ships of war 

that day. 
Till he melted like a cloud in the silent summer heaven ; 
But Sir Richard bore in hand all his sick men from the 

land 
Very carefully and slow, 
Men of Bideford in Devon, 
And we laid them on the ballast down below ; 
For we brought them all aboard, 
And they blest him in their pain, that they were not left 

to Spain, 
To the thumbscrew and the stake, for the glory of the 

Lord. 

IV 

He had only a hundred seamen to work the ship and to 

fight, 
And he sail'd away from Flores till the Spaniard came 

in sight. 
With his huge sea-castles heaving upon the weather 

bow. 
''Shall we fight or shall we fly? 
Good Sir Richard, let us know, 
For to fight is but to die! 

There'll be little of us left by the time this sun be set." 
And Sir Richard said again: "We be all good Enghsh 

men. 

174 



THE REVENGE: A BALLAD OF THE FLEET 

Let us hang these dogs of Seville, the children of the 

Devil, 
For I never turn'd my back upon Don or Devil yet." 

V 

Sir Richard spoke, and he laugh'd, and we roared a 

hurrah, and so 
The little Revenge ran on sheer into the heart of the foe, 
With her hundred fighters on deck, and her ninety sick 

below ; 
For half of their fleet to the right and half to the left 

were seen, 
And the little Revenge ran on thro' the long sea-lane 

between. 

VI 

Thousands of their soldiers look'd down from their 
decks and laugh'd, 

Thousands of their seamen made mock at the mad little 
craft 

Running on and on, till delay'd 

By their mountain-like San Philip that, of fifteen hun- 
dred tons, 

And up-shadowing high above us with her yawning tiers 
of guns, 

Took the breath from our sails, and we stay'd. 

vn 

And while now the great San Philip hung above us 

like a cloud 
Whence the thunderbolt will fall 
Long and loud, 

I7S 



THE BOYS' BOOK OF BATTLES 

Four galleons drew away 
From the Spanish fleet that day, 
And two upon the larboard and two upon the star- 
board lay, 
And the battle-thunder broke from them all. 

vni 

But anon the great San Philip she bethought herself 
and went, 

Having that within her womb that had left her ill- 
content; 

And the rest they came aboard us, and they fought us 
hand to hand. 

For a dozen times they came with their pikes and mus- 
queteers. 

And a dozen times we shook 'em off as a dog that shakes 
his ears 

When he leaps from the water to the land. 

IX 

And the sun went down, and the stars came out far over 
the summer sea. 

But never a moment ceased the fight of the one and the 
fifty- three. 

Ship after ship, the whole night long, their high-built 
galleons came, 

Ship after ship, the whole night long, with her battle- 
thunder and flame; 

Ship after ship, the whole night long, drew back with 
her dead and her shame. 

For some were sunk and many were shatter'd, and so 
could fight us no more — 

176 



THE REVENGE: A BALLAD OF THE FLEET 

God of battles, was ever a battle like this in the world 
before? 



For he said, "Fight on! fight on!" 

Tho' his vessel was all but a wreck; 

And it chanced that, when half of the summer night was 

gone. 
With a grisly wound to be drest he had left the deck. 
But a bullet struck him that was dressing it suddenly 

dead, 
And himself he was wounded again in the side and the 

head. 
And he said, "Fight on! fight on!" 

XI 

And the night went down, and the sun smiled out far 

over the summer sea. 
And the Spanish fleet with broken sides lay round us all 

in a ring; 
But they dared not touch us again, for they fear'd that 

we still could sting, 
So they watch'd what the end would be. 
And we had not fought them in vain, 
But in perilous plight were we. 
Seeing forty of our poor hundred were slain, 
And half of the rest of us maim'd for life 
In the crash of the cannonades and the desperate strife; 
And the sick men down in the hold were most of them 

stark and cold, 
And the pikes were all broken or bent, and the powder 

was all of it spent; 

177 



THE BOYS' BOOK OF BATTLES 

And the masts and rigging were Ijang over the side; 

But Sir Richard cried in his EngHsh pride: 

"We have fought such a fight for a day and a night 

As may never be fought again ! 

We have won great glory, my men! 

And a day less or more, 

At sea or ashore. 

We die — does it matter when? 

Sink me the ship, Master Gunner — sink her, split her 

in twain! 
Fall into the hands of God, not into the hands of Spain ! " 

XII 

And the gunner said, "Aye, aye," but the seamen made 

reply : 
"We have children, we have wives. 
And the Lord hath spared our lives. 
We will make the Spaniard promise, if we yield, to let 

us go; 
We shall live to fight again and to strike another blow." 
And the lion there lay dying, and they yielded to the foe. 

XIII 

And the stately Spanish men to their flagship bore him 

then, 
Where they laid him by the mast, old Sir Richard caught 

at last, 
And they praised him to his face with their courtly 

foreign grace; 
But he rose upon their decks, and he cried : 
"I have fought for Queen and Faith like a vaHant man 

and true; 

178 



THE REVENGE: A BALLAD OF THE FLEET 

I have only done my duty as a man is bound to do; 
With a joyful spirit I, Sir Richard Granville, die!" 
And he fell upon their decks, and he died. 

XIV 

And they stared at the dead that had been so vahant 

and true, 
And had holden the power and glory of Spain so cheap 
That he dared her with one little ship and his English 

few; 
Was he devil or man? He was devil for aught they knew, 
But they sank his body with honor down into the deep, 
And they mann'd the Revenge with a swarthier alien 

crew. 
And away she sail'd with her loss and long'd for her own: 
When a wind from the lands they had ruin'd awoke from 

sleep, 
And the water began to heave and the weather to moan, 
And or ever that evening ended a great gale blew, 
And a wave like the wave that is raised by an earth- 
quake grew. 
Till it smote on their hulls and their sails and their masts 

and their flags. 
And the whole sea plunged and fell on the shot-shatter'd 

navy of Spain, 
And the little Revenge herself went down by the island 

crags 
To be lost evermore in the main. 



THE STORMING OF THE SKY-CITY 

[1599] 

BY CHARLES F. LUMMIS 

Some of the most characteristic heroisms and hardships 
of the pioneers in our domain cluster about the won- 
drous rock of Acoma, the strange sky-city of the Queres 
Pueblos. All the Pueblo cities were built in positions 
which Nature herself had fortified, — a necessity of the 
times, since they were surrounded by outnumbering 
hordes of the deadliest warriors in history; but Acoma 
was most secure of all. In the midst of a long valley, 
four miles wide, itself lined by almost insurmountable 
precipices, towers a lofty rock, whose top is about 
seventy acres in area, and whose walls, three hundred 
and fifty-seven feet high, are not merely perpendicular, 
but in most places even overhanging. Upon its summit 
was perched — and is to-day — the dizzy city of the 
Queres. The few paths to the top — whereon a misstep 
will roll the victim to horrible death, hundreds of feet 
below — are by wild, precipitous clefts, at the head of 
which one determined man, with no other weapons 
than stones, could almost hold at bay an army. 

This strange aerial town was first heard of by Euro- 
peans in 1539, when Fray Marcos, the discoverer of 
New Mexico, was told by the people of Cibola of the 
great rock fortress of Hakuque, — their name for 
Acoma, which the natives themselves call Ahko. In the 
following year Coronado visited it with his httle army, 

180 



THE STORMING OF THE SKY-CITY 

and has left us an accurate account of its wonders. 
These first Europeans were well received there; and the 
superstitious natives, who had never seen a beard or a 
white face before, took the strangers for gods. But it 
was more than half a century later yet before the Span- 
iards sought a foothold there. 

When Onate entered New Mexico in 1598, he met no 
immediate resistance whatever; for his force of four 
hundred people, including two hundred men-at-arms, 
was large enough to awe the Indians. They were natu- 
rally hostile to these invaders of their domain; but find- 
ing themselves well treated by the strangers, and fearful 
of open war against these men with hard clothes, who 
killed from afar with their thunder-sticks, the Pueblos 
awaited results. The Queres, Tigua, and Jemez branches 
formally submitted to Spanish rule, and took the oath 
of allegiance to the Crown by their representative men 
gathered at the pueblo of Guipuy (now Santo Domingo) ; 
as also did the Tanos, Picuries, Tehuas, and Taos, at a 
similar conference at the pueblo of San Juan, in Septem- 
ber, 1598. At this ready submission Ofiate was greatly 
encouraged; and he decided to visit all the principal 
pueblos in person, to make them securer subjects of his 
sovereign. He had founded already the first town in 
New Mexico and the second in the United States, — 
San Gabriel de los Espaiioles, where Chamita stands 
to-day. Before starting on this perilous journey, he 
dispatched Juan de Zaldivar, his maestro de campo,^ 
with fifty men to explore the vast, unknown plains to 
the east, and then to follow him. 

Onate and a small force left the lonely little Spanish 

* Equivalent to our colonel. 
181 



THE BOYS' BOOK OF BATTLES 

colony, — more than a thousand miles from any other 
town of civilized men, — October 6, 1598. First he 
marched to the pueblos in the great plains of the Salt 
Lakes, east of the Manzano mountains, — a thirsty 
journey of more than two hundred miles. Then return- 
ing to the pueblo of Puaray (opposite the present 
Bernalillo), he turned westward. On the 27th of the 
same month he camped at the foot of the lofty cliffs of 
Acoma. The principales (chief men) of the town came 
down from the rock, and took the solemn pledge of 
allegiance to the Spanish Crown. They were thoroughly 
warned of the deep importance and meaning of this step, 
and that if they violated their oath they would be 
regarded and treated as rebels against His Majesty; 
but they fully pledged themselves to be faithful vassals. 
They were very friendly, and repeatedly invited the 
Spanish commander and his men to visit their sky-city. 
In truth, they had had spies at the conferences in Santo 
Domingo and San Juan, and had decided that the most 
dangerous man among the invaders was Onate himself. 
If he could be slain, they thought the rest of the pale 
strangers might be easily routed. 

But Onate knew nothing of their intended treachery; 
and on the following day he and his handful of men — 
leaving only a guard with the horses — climbed one of 
the breathless stone "ladders," and stood in Acoma. 
The officious Indians piloted them hither and yon, show- 
ing them the strange terraced houses of many stories 
in height, the great reservoirs in the eternal rock, and 
the dizzy brink which everywhere surrounded the eyrie 
of a town. At last they brought the Spaniards to where a 
huge ladder, projecting far aloft through a trapdoor in 

182 



THE STORMING OF THE SKY-CITY 

the roof of a large house, indicated the estufa, or sacred 
council-chamber. The visitors mounted to the roof by 
a smaller ladder, and the Indians tried to have Onate 
descend through the trapdoor. But the Spanish gover- 
nor, noting that all was dark in the room below, and 
suddenly becoming suspicious, declined to enter; and 
as his soldiers were all about, the Indians did not insist. 
After a short visit in the pueblo the Spaniards descended 
the rock to their camp, and thence marched away on 
their long and dangerous journey to Moqui and Zufii. 
That swift flash of prudence in Onate's mind saved the 
history of New Mexico; for in that dark estufa was lying 
a band of armed warriors. Had he entered the room, he 
would have been slain at once; and his death was to be 
the signal for a general onslaught upon the Spaniards, 
all of whom must have perished in the unequal fight. 

Returning from his march of exploration through the 
trackless and deadly plains, Juan de Zaldivar left San 
Gabriel on the i8th of November, to follow his com- 
mander-in-chief. He had but thirty men. Reaching the 
foot of the City in the Sky on the 4th of December, he 
was very kindly received by the Acomas, who invited 
him up into their town. Juan was a good soldier, as 
well as a gallant one, and well used to the tricks of 
Indian warfare; but for the first time in his life — and 
the last — he now let himself be deceived. Leaving half 
his little force at the foot of the cliff to guard the camp 
and horses, he himself went up with sixteen men. The 
town was so full of wonders, the people so cordial, that 
the visitors soon forgot whatever suspicions they may 
have had; and by degrees they scattered hither and yon 
to see the strange sights. The natives had been waiting 

183 



THE BOYS' BOOK OF BATTLES 

only for this; and when the war-chief gave the wild 
whoop, men, women, and children seized rocks and 
clubs, bows and flint-knives, and fell furiously upon the 
scattered Spaniards. It was a ghastly and an unequal 
fight the winter sun looked down upon that bitter 
afternoon in the cliff-city. Here and there, with back 
against the wall of one of those strange houses, stood a 
gray-faced, tattered, bleeding soldier, swinging his 
clumsy flintlock club-like, or hacking with desperate but 
unavailing sword at the dark, ravenous mob that 
hemmed him, while stones rained upon his bent visor, 
and clubs and cruel flints sought him from every side. 
There was no coward blood among that doomed band. 
They sold their lives dearly; in front of every one lay a 
sprawling heap of dead. But one by one the howling 
wave of barbarians drowned each grim, silent fighter, 
and swept off to swell the murderous flood about the 
next. Zaldivar himself was one of the first victims; and 
two other officers, six soldiers, and two servants fell 
in that uneven combat. The five survivors — Juan 
Tabaro, who was alguacil-mayor , with four soldiers — 
got 'at last together, and with superhuman strength 
fought their way to the edge of the clifi", bleeding from 
many wounds. But their savage foes still pressed them; 
and being too faint to carve their way to one of the 
"ladders," in the wfldness of desperation the five sprang 
over the beetling cliff. 

Never but once was recorded so frightful a leap as 
that of Tabaro and his four companions. Even if we pre- 
sume that they had been so fortunate as to reach the 
very lowest point of the rock, it could not have been less 
than one hvmdred and fifty feet! And yet only one of 

184 



THE STORMING OF THE SKY-CITY 

the five was killed by this inconceivable fall; the remain- 
ing four, cared for by their terrified companions in the 
camp, all finally recovered. It would be incredible, were 
it not established by absolute historical proof. It is 
probable that they fell upon one of the moimds of white 
sand which the winds had drifted against the foot of the 
cliffs in places. 

Fortunately, the victorious savages did not attack 
the little camp. The survivors still had their horses, of 
which unknown brutes the Indians had a great fear. 
For several days the fourteen soldiers and their four 
half-dead companions camped under the overhanging 
cliff, where they were safe from missiles from above, 
hourly expecting an onslaught from the savages. They 
felt sure that this massacre of their comrades was but 
the prelude to a general uprising of the twenty-five or 
thirty thousand Pueblos; and regardless of the danger to 
themselves, they decided at last to break up into little 
bands, and separate, — some to follow their commander 
on his lonely march to Moqui, and warn him of his 
danger; and others to hasten over the hundreds of arid 
miles to San Gabriel and the defense of its women and 
babes, and to the missionaries who had scattered among 
the savages. This plan of self-devotion was successfully 
carried out. The little bands of three and four apiece 
bore the news to their countrymen; and by the end 
of the year 1598 all the surviving Spaniards in New 
Mexico were safely gathered in the hamlet of San 
Gabriel. The little town was built pueblo-fashion, in 
the shape of a hollow square. In the plaza within were 
planted the rude pedreros — small howitzers which fired 
a ball of stone — to command the gates; and upon the 

i8s 



THE BOYS' BOOK OF BATTLES 

roofs of the three-story adobe houses the brave women 
watched by day, and the men with their heavy flintlocks 
all through the winter nights, to guard against the 
expected attack. But the Pueblos rested on their arms. 
They were waiting to see what Onate would do with 
Acoma, before they took final measures against the 
strangers. 

It was a most serious dilemma in which Onate now 
found himself. One need not have known half so much 
about the Indian character as did this gray, quiet 
Spaniard, to understand that he must signally punish 
the rebels for the massacre of his men, or abandon his 
colony and New Mexico altogether. If such an outrage 
went unpunished, the emboldened Pueblos would de- 
stroy the last Spaniard. On the other hand, how could 
he hope to conquer that impregnable fortress of rock? 
He had less than two hundred men; and only a small 
part of these could be spared for the campaign, lest the 
other Pueblos in their absence should rise and annihilate 
San Gabriel and its people. In Acoma there were full 
three himdred warriors, reinforced by at least a hundred 
Navajo braves. 

But there was no alternative. The more he reflected 
and counseled with his ofiicers, the more apparent it 
became that the only salvation was to capture the 
Queres Gibraltar; and the plan was decided upon. 
Onate naturally desired to lead in person this forlornest 
of forlorn hopes; but there was one who had even a 
better claim to the desperate honor than the captain- 
general, — and that one was the forgotten hero Vicente 
de Zaldivar, brother of the murdered Juan. He was 
sargento-mayor of the little army; and when he came to 

1 86 



THE STORMING OF THE SKY-CITY 

Onate and begged to be given the command of the 
expedition against Acoma, there was no saying him nay. 

On the 1 2th of January, 1599, Vicente de Zaldivar 
left San Gabriel at the head of seventy men. Only a few 
of them had even the clumsy flintlocks of the day; the 
majority were not arquebusiers but piquiers, armed only 
with swords and lances, and clad in jackets of quilted 
cotton or battered mail. One small pedrero, lashed upon 
the back of a horse, was the only "artillery." 

Silently and sternly the little force made its arduous 
march. All knew that impregnable rock, and few cher- 
ished an expectation of returning from so desperate a 
mission; but there was no thought of turning back. On 
the afternoon of the eleventh day the tired soldiers 
passed the last intervening mesa, and came in sight of 
Acoma. The Indians, warned by their runners, were 
ready to receive them. The whole population, with the 
Navajo allies, were under arms, on the housetops and 
the commanding cliffs. Naked savages, painted black, 
leaped from crag to crag, screeching defiance and heap- 
ing insults upon the Spaniards. The medicine-men, 
hideously disguised, stood on projecting pinnacles, 
beating their drums and scattering curses and incanta- 
tions to the winds; and all the populace joined in derisive 
howls and taunts. 

Zaldivar halted his little band as close to the foot of 
the cliff as he could without danger. The indispensable 
notary stepped from the ranks, and at the blast of the 
trumpet proceeded to read at the top of his lungs the 
formal summons in the name of the King of Spain to 
surrender. Thrice he shouted through the summons; 
but each time his voice was drowned by the howls and 

187 



THE BOYS' BOOK OF BATTLES 

shrieks of the enraged savages, and a hail of stones and 
arrows fell dangerously near. Zaldivar had desired to 
secure the surrender of the pueblo, demand the delivery 
to him of the ringleaders in the massacre, and take them 
back with him to San Gabriel for official trial and pun- 
ishment; without harm to the other people of Acoma; 
but the savages, secure in their grim fortress, mocked 
the merciful appeal. It was clear that Acoma must be 
stormed. The Spaniards camped on the bare sands and 
passed the night — made hideous by the sounds of a 
monster war-dance in the town — in gloomy plans for 
the morrow. 

At daybreak, on the morning of January 22, Zaldivar 
gave the signal for the attack; and the main body of the 
Spaniards began firing their few arquebuses, and making 
a desperate assault at the north end of the great rock, 
there absolutely impregnable. The Indians, crowded 
along the cliffs above, poured down a rain of missiles; 
and many of the Spaniards were wounded. Meanwhile 
twelve picked men, who had hidden during the night 
under the overhanging cliff which protected them alike 
from the fire and the observation of the Indians, were 
crawling stealthily around under the precipice, dragging 
the pedrero by ropes. Most of these twelve were arque- 
busiers; and besides the weight of the ridiculous little 
cannon, they had their ponderous flintlocks and their 
clumsy armor, — poor helps for scaling heights which the 
unencumbered athlete finds difficult. Pursuing their toil- 
some way unobserved, pulling one another and then the 
pedrero up the ledges, they reached at last the top of a 
great outlying pinnacle of rock, separated from the main 
cliff of Acoma by a narrow but awful chasm. Late in 

188 



THE STORMING OF THE SKY-CITY 

the afternoon they had their howitzer trained upon the 
town; and the loud report, as its cobble-stone ball flew 
into Acoma, signaled the main body at the north end of 
the mesa that the first vantage-ground had been safely 
gamed, and, at the same time warned the savages of 
danger from a new quarter. 

That night little squads of Spaniards climbed the 
great precipices which wall the trough-like valley on 
east and west, cut down small pines, and with infinite 
labor dragged the logs down the cliffs, across the valley, 
and up the butte on which the twelve were stationed. 
About a score of men were left to guard the horses at 
the north end of the mesa; and the rest of the force 
joined the twelve, hiding behind the crags of their rock- 
tower. Across the chasm the Indians were lying in 
crevices, or behind rocks, awaiting the attack. 

At daybreak of the 23d, a squad of picked men at a 
given signal rushed from their hiding-places with a log 
on their shoulders, and by a lucky cast lodged its farther 
end on the opposite brink of the abyss. Out dashed the 
Spaniards at their heels, and began balancing across 
that dizzy "bridge" in the face of a volley of stones 
and arrows. A very few had crossed, when one in his 
excitement caught the rope and pulled the log across 
after him. 

It was a fearful moment. There were less than a 
dozen Spaniards thus left standing alone on the brink 
of Acoma, cut off from their companions by a gulf 
hundreds of feet deep, and surrounded by swarming sav- 
ages. The Indians, sallying from their refuge, fell in- 
stantly upon them on every hand. As long as the Span- 
ish soldier could keep the Indians at a distance, even his 

189 



THE BOYS' BOOK OF BATTLES 

clumsy firearms and inefficient armor gave an advantage; 
but at such close quarters these very things were a fatal 
impediment by their weight and clumsiness. Now it 
seemed as if the previous Acoma massacre were to be 
repeated, and the cut-off Spaniards to be hacked to 
pieces; but at this very crisis a deed of surpassing per- 
sonal valor saved them and the cause of Spain in New 
Mexico. A slender, bright-faced young oflQcer, a college 
boy who was a special friend and favorite of Onate, 
sprang from the crowd of dismayed Spaniards on the 
farther bank, who dared not fire into that indiscriminate 
jostle of friend and foe, and came running like a deer 
toward the chasm. As he reached its brink his lithe 
body gathered itself, sprang into the air like a bird, and 
cleared the gulf! Seizing the log, he thrust it back with 
desperate strength until his companions could grasp it 
from the farther brink; and over the restored bridge the 
Spanish soldiers poured to retrieve the day. 

Then began one of the most fearful hand-to-hand 
struggles in all American history. Outnumbered nearly 
ten to one, lost in a howling mob of savages who fought 
with the frenzy of despair, gashed with raw-edged 
knives, dazed with crushing clubs, pierced with bristling 
arrows, spent and faint and bleeding, Zaldivar and his 
hero-handful fought their way inch by inch, step by 
step, clubbing their heavy guns, hewing with their short 
swords, parrying deadly blows, pulling the barbed 
arrows from their quivering flesh. On, on, on they 
pressed, shouting the gallant war-cry of Santiago, driv- 
ing the stubborn foe before them by still more stubborn 
valor, until at last the Indians, fully convinced that 
these were no human foes, fled to the refuge of their 

190 



THE STORMING OF THE SKY-CITY 

fort-like houses, and there was room for the reeling 
Spaniards to draw breath. Then thrice again the sum- 
mons to surrender was duly read before the strange 
tenements, each near a thousand feet long, and looking 
like a flight of gigantic steps carved from one rock. 
Zaldivar even now wished to spare unnecessary blood- 
shed, and demanded only that the assassins of his 
brother and countrymen should be given up for punish- 
ment. All others who should surrender and become 
subjects of *'Our Lord the King" should be well treated. 
But the dogged Indians, like wounded wolves in their 
den, stuck in their barricaded houses, and refused all 
terms of peace. 

The rock was captured, but the town remained. A 
pueblo is a fortress in itself; and now Zaldivar had to 
storm Acoma house by house and room by room. The 
little pedrero was dragged in front of the first row of 
houses, and soon began to deliver its slow fire. As the 
adobe walls crumbled imder the steady battering of the 
stone cannon-balls, they only formed great barricades 
of clay, which even our modem artillery would not 
pierce; and each had to be carried separately at the 
point of the sword. Some of the fallen houses caught 
fire from their own f agones ; ^ and soon a stifling smoke 
hung over the town, from which issued the shrieks of 
women and babes and the defiant yells of the warriors. 
The humane Zaldivar made every effort to save the 
women and children, at great risk of self; but numbers 
perished beneath the falhng walls of their own houses. 

This fearful storming lasted until noon of January 24. 
Now and then bands of warriors made sorties, and tried 

^ Fireplaces. 
191 



THE BOYS' BOOK OF BATTLES 

to cut their way through the Spanish line. Many sprang 
in desperation over the clifif, and were dashed to pieces 
at its foot; and two Indians who made that incredible 
leap survived it as miraculously as had the four Span- 
iards in the earlier massacre, and made their escape. 

At last, at noon of the third day, the old men came 
forth to sue for mercy, which was at once granted. The 
moment they surrendered, their rebellion was forgotten 
and their treachery forgiven. There was no need of 
further punishment. The ringleaders in the murder of 
Zaldivar's brother were all dead, and so were nearly all 
the Navajo allies. It was the most bloody struggle New 
Mexico ever saw. In this three days' fight the Indians 
lost five hundred slain and many wounded; and of the 
surviving Spaniards not one but bore to his grave many 
a ghastly scar as mementos of Acoma. The town was 
so nearly destroyed that it had all to be rebuilt; and the 
infinite labor with which the patient people had brought 
up that cliff on their backs all the stones and timber and 
clay to build a many-storied town for nearly a thousand 
souls was all to be repeated. Their crops, too, and all 
other supplies, stored in dark little rooms of the terraced 
houses, had been destroyed, and they were in sore want. 
Truly a bitter punishment had been sent them by 
"those above" for their treachery to Juan de Zaldivar. 

When his men had sufficiently recovered from their 
wounds, Vicente de Zaldivar, the leader of probably the 
most wonderful capture in history, marched victorious 
back to San Gabriel de los Espanoles, taking with him 
eighty young Acoma girls, whom he sent to be educated 
by the nuns in Old Mexico. What a shout must have 
gone up from the gray walls of the little colony when its 

192 



THE STORMING OF THE SKY-CITY 

anxious watchers saw at last the wan and unexpected 
tatters of its Httle army pricking slowly homeward 
across the snows on jaded steeds! 

The rest of the Pueblos, who had been lying demure 
as cats, with claws sheathed, but every lithe muscle 
ready to spring, were fairly paralyzed with awe. They 
had looked to see the Spaniards defeated, if not crushed, 
at Acoma; and then a swift rising of all the tribes 
would have made short work of the remaining invaders. 
But now the impossible had happened! Anko, the 
proud sky-city of the Queres; A^o, the cliff-girt and 
impregnable, — had fallen before the pale strangers! 
Its brave warriors had come to naught, its strong houses 
were a chaos of smoking ruins, its wealth was gone, its 
people nearly wiped from off the earth! What use to 
struggle against "such men of power," — these strange 
wizards who must be precious to "those above," else 
they never could have such superhuman prowess? The 
strong sinews relaxed, and the great cat began to purr 
as though she had never dreamed of mousing. There 
was no more thought of a rebellion against the Spaniards ; 
and the Indians even went out of their way to court the 
favor of these awesome strangers. They brought Onate 
the news of the fall of Acoma several days before 
Zaldivar and his heroes got back to the little colony, 
and even were mean enough to deliver to him two 
Queres refugees from that dread field who had sought 
shelter among them. Thenceforth Governor Onate had 
no more trouble with the Pueblos. 

But Acoma itself seemed to take the lesson to heart 
less than any of them. Too crushed and broken to think 
of further war with its invincible foes, it still remained 

193 



THE BOYS' BOOK OF BATTLES 

bitterly hostile to the Spaniards for full thirty years, 
until it was again conquered by a heroism as splendid 
as Zaldivar's, though in a far different way. 

In 1629, Fray Juan Ramirez, " the Apostle of Acoma," 
left Santa Fe alone to found a mission in that lofty 
home of fierce barbarians. An escort of soldiers was 
offered him, but he declined it, and started unaccom- 
panied and on foot, with no other weapon than his 
crucifix. Tramping his footsore and dangerous way, he 
came after many days to the foot of the great "island" 
of rock, and began the ascent. As soon as the savages 
saw a stranger of the hated people, they rallied to the 
brink of the cliff and poured down a great flight of 
arrows, some of which pierced his robes. Just then a 
little girl of Acoma, who was standing on the edge of the 
cliff, grew frightened at the wild actions of her people, 
and losing her balance tumbled over the precipice. By a 
strange providence she fell but a few yards, and landed 
on a sandy ledge near the fray, but out of sight of her 
people, who presumed that she had fallen the whole 
height of the cliff. Fray Juan climbed to her, and carried 
her unhurt to the top of the rock; and seeing this appar- 
ent miracle, the savages were disarmed, and received 
him as a good wizard. The good man dwelt alone there 
in Acoma for more than twenty years, loved by the 
natives as a father, and teaching his swarthy converts so 
successfully that in time many knew their catechism, 
and could read and write in Spanish. Besides, under his 
direction they built a large church with enormous labor. 
When he died, in 1664, the Acomas from being the 
fiercest Indians had become the gentlest in New Mexico, 
and were among the farthest advanced in civilization. 

194 



THE STORMING OF THE SKY-CITY 

But a few years after his death came the uprising of all 
the Pueblos; and in the long and disastrous wars which 
followed the church was destroyed, and the fruits of the 
hrsiye fray's work largely disappeared. In that rebellion 
Fray Lucas Maldonado, who was then the missionary to 
Acoma, was butchered by his flock on the loth oriith 
of August, 1680. In November, 1692, Acoma volun- 
tarily surrendered to the reconqueror of New Mexico, 
Diego de Vargas. Within a few years, however, it 
rebelled again; and in August, 1696, Vargas marched 
against it, but was unable to storm the rock. But by 
degrees the Pueblos grew to lasting peace with the hu- 
mane conquerors, and to merit the kindness which was 
steadily proffered them. The mission at Acoma was 
reestablished about the year 1700; and there stands to- 
day a huge church which is one of the most interesting 
in the world, by reason of the infinite labor and patience 
which built it. The last attempt at a Pueblo uprising 
was in 1828; but Acoma was not implicated in it at all. 
The strange stone stairway, by which Fray Juan 
Ramirez climbed first to his dangerous parish in the 
teeth of a storm of arrows, is used by the people of Acoma 
to this day, and is still called by them el camino del 
padre (the path of the father). 



GUSTAVUS ADOLPHUS AT LUTZEN 
[1632] 

BY JOHANN CHRISTOPH FRIEDRICH VON SCHILLER 

[During the Thirty Years' War, in Germany, the Protes- 
tants had long hoped that Gustavus Adolphus, King of 
Sweden, would become their leader; but he felt that he must 
first care for the needs of his country. At length, however, 
the time came when he saw that his own land was in danger. 
Then he led his army into Germany, and there he was joined 
by the allied forces of the Protestant princes. At Liitzen he 
met the troops of the Austrian Emperor under Wallenstein. 
On the outcome of this battle depended the fate of Protes- 
tant Germany. 

The Editor. \ 

At last the fateful morning dawned ; but an impenetra- 
ble fog, which spread over the plain, delayed the attack 
till noon. KJneeling in front of his lines, the king oflfered 
up his devotions; and the whole army, at the same mo- 
ment dropping on their knees, burst into a moving 
h3rmn, accompanied by the military music. The king 
then mounted his horse, and, clad only in a leathern 
doublet and surtout (for a wound he had formerly re- 
ceived prevented his wearing armor), rode along the 
ranks, to animate the courage of his troops with a joyful 
confidence, which, however, the foreboding presenti- 
ment of his own bosom contradicted. " God with us! " 
was the war-cry of the Swedes; "Jesus Maria!" that of 
the imperialists. About eleven the fog began to dis- 
perse, and the enemy became visible. At the same mo- 

196 



GUSTAVUS ADOLPHUS AT LUTZEN 

ment Liitzen was seen in flames, having been set on 
fire by command of the duke, to prevent his being 
outflanked on that side. The charge was now sounded ; 
the cavalry rushed upon the enemy, and the infantry 
advanced against the trenches. 

Received by a tremendous fire of musketry and heavy 
artillery, these intrepid battalions maintained the at- 
tack with undaimted courage, till the enemy's musket- 
eers abandoned their posts, the trenches were passed, 
the battery carried and turned against the enemy. They 
pressed forward with irresistible impetuosity; the first 
of the five imperial brigades was immediately routed, 
the second soon after, and the third put to flight. But 
here the genius of Wallenstein opposed itself to their 
progress. With the rapidity of lightning he was on the 
spot to rally his discomfited troops; and his powerful 
word was itself sufficient to stop the flight of the fugi- 
tives. Supported by three regiments of cavalry, the 
vanquished brigades, forming anew, faced the enemy, 
and pressed vigorously into the broken ranks of the 
Swedes. A murderous conflict ensued. The nearness 
of the enemy left no room for firearms, the fury of the 
attack no time for loading; man was matched to man, 
the useless musket exchanged for the sword and pike, 
and science gave way to desperation. Overpowered by 
numbers, the wearied Swedes at last retired beyond the 
trenches; and the captured battery is again lost by the 
retreat. A thousand mangled bodies already strewed 
the plain, and as yet not a single step of ground had 
been won. 

In the mean time the king's right wing, led by him- 
self, had fallen upon the enemy's left. The first impet- 

197 



THE BOYS' BOOK OF BATTLES 

uous shock of the heavy Finland cuirassiers dispersed 
the lightly mounted Poles and Croats, who were posted 
here, and their disorderly flight spread terror and con- 
fusion among the rest of the cavalry. At this moment 
notice was brought the king, that his infantry were re- 
treating over the trenches, and also that his left wing, 
exposed to a severe fire from the enemy's cannon posted 
at the windmills, was beginning to give way. With 
rapid decision he committed to General Horn the pur- 
suit of the enemy's left, while he flew, at the head of the 
regiment of Steinbock, to repair the disorder of his right 
wing. His noble charger bore him with the velocity of 
lightning across the trenches, but the squadrons that 
followed could not come on with the same speed, and 
only a few horsemen, among whom was Francis Albert, 
Duke of Saxe-Lauenburg, were able to keep up with the 
king. He rode directly to the place where his infantry 
were most closely pressed, and while he was reconnoi- 
tering the enemy's line for an exposed point of attack, the 
shortness of his sight unfortunately led him too close to 
their ranks. An imperial gefreyter [corporal], remarking 
that every one respectfully made way for him as he rode 
along, immediately ordered a musketeer to take aim at 
him. "Fire at him yonder," said he; "that must be a 
man of consequence." The soldier fired, and the king's 
left arm was shattered. At that moment his squadron 
came hurrying up, and a confused cry of "The king 
bleeds! the king is shot!" spread terror and conster- 
nation through all the ranks. "It is nothing — follow 
me," cried the king, collecting his whole strength; but 
overcome by. pain, and nearly fainting, he requested 
the Duke of Lauenburg, in French, to lead him xmob- 

198 



GUSTAVUS ADOLPHUS AT LUTZEN 

served out of the tumult. While the duke proceeded to- 
ward the right wing with the king, making a long circuit 
to keep this discouraging sight from the disordered 
infantry, his Majesty received a second shot through 
the back, which deprived him of his remaining strength. 
"Brother," said he, with a dying voice, "I have enough! 
look only to your own life." At the same moment he 
fell from his horse pierced by several more shots; and 
abandoned by all his attendants, he breathed his last 
amid the plundering hands of the Croats. His charger, 
flying without its rider, and covered with blood, soon 
made known to the Swedish cavalry the fall of their 
king. They rushed madly forward to rescue his sacred 
remains from the hands of the enemy. A murderous 
conflict ensued over the body, till his mangled remains 
were buried beneath a heap of slain. 

The mournful tidings soon ran through the Swedish 
army; but, instead of destroying the courage of those 
brave troops, it but excited it into a new, a wild, a con- 
suming flame. Life had lessened in value, now that the 
most sacred life of all was gone; death had no terrors for 
the lowly, since the anointed head was not spared. With 
the fury of lions the Upland, Smaland, Finland, East 
and West Gothland regiments rushed a second time 
upon the left wing of the enemy, which, already making 
but feeble resistance to General Horn, was now entirely 
beaten from the field. Bernard, Duke of Saxe-Weimar, 
gave to the bereaved Swedes a noble leader in his own 
person; and the spirit of Gustavus led his victorious 
squadrons anew. The left wing quickly formed again, 
and vigorously pressed the right of the imperialists. 
The artiflery at the windmills, which had maintained 

199 



THE BOYS' BOOK OF BATTLES 

so murderous a fire upon the Swedes, was captured and 
turned against the enemy. The center, also, of the 
Swedish infantry, commanded by the duke and Knyp- 
hausen, advanced a second time against the trenches, 
which they successfully passed, and retook the battery 
of seven cannons. The attack was now renewed with 
redoubled fury upon the heavy battalions of the ene- 
my's center; their resistance became gradually less, and 
chance conspired with Swedish valor to complete the 
defeat. The imperial powder-wagons took fire, and, 
with a tremendous explosion, grenades and bombs filled 
the air. 

The enemy, now in confusion, thought they were at- 
tacked in the rear, while the Swedish brigades pressed 
them in front. Their courage began to fail them. Their 
left wing was already beaten, their right wavering, and 
their artillery in the enemy's hands. The battle seemed 
to be almost decided; another moment would decide the 
fate of the day, when Pappenheim appeared on the field, 
with his cuirassiers and dragoons; all the advantages 
already gained were lost, and the battle was to be 
fought anew. 

The order which recalled that general to Liitzen had 
reached him in Halle, while his troops were still plunder- 
ing the town. It was impossible to collect the scattered 
infantry with that rapidity, which the urgency of the 
order and Pappenheim's impatience required. With- 
out waiting for it, therefore, he ordered eight regiments 
of cavalry to mount; and at their head he galloped at 
full speed for Liitzen, to share in the battle. He arrived 
in time to witness the flight of the imperial right wing, 
which Gustavus Horn was driving from the field, and to 

200 



GUSTAVUS ADOLPHUS AT LUTZEN 

be at first involved in their rout. But with rapid pres- 
ence of mind he rallied the fl3dng troops, and led them 
once more against the enemy. Carried away by his wild 
bravery, and impatient to encounter the king, who he 
supposed was at the head of this wing, he burst fu- 
riously upon the Swedish ranks, which, exhausted by 
victory, and inferior in numbers, were, after a noble 
resistance, overpowered by this fresh body of enemies. 
Pappenheim's unexpected appearance revived the 
drooping courage of the imperiahsts, and the Duke of 
Friedland quickly availed himself of the favorable mo- 
ment to re-form his line. The closely serried battalions 
of the Swedes were, after a tremendous conflict, again 
driven across the trenches; and the battery, which had 
been twice lost, again rescued from their hands. The 
whole yellow regiment, the finest of all that distin- 
guished themselves in this dreadful day, lay dead on the 
field, covering the ground almost in the same excellent 
order which, when alive, they maintained with such 
unyielding courage. The same fate befell another regi- 
ment of Blues, which Count Piccolomini attacked with 
the imperial cavalry, and cut down after a desperate 
contest. Seven times did this intrepid general renew 
the attack; seven horses were shot under him and he 
himself was pierced with six musket balls; yet he would 
not leave the field, until he was carried along in the gen- 
eral rout of the whole army. Wallenstein himself was 
seen riding through his ranks with cool intrepidity, 
amidst a shower of balls, assisting the distressed, en- 
couraging the valiant with praise, and the wavering by 
his fearful glance. Around and close by him his men 
were falling thick, and his own mantle was perforated 

20I 



THE BOYS' BOOK OF BATTLES 

by several shots. But avenging destiny this day pro- 
tected that breast, for which another weapon was re- 
served; on the same field where the noble Gustavus 
expired, Wallenstein was not allowed to terminate his 
guilty career. 

Less fortunate was Pappenheim, the Telamon of the 
army, the bravest soldier of Austria and the Church. 
An ardent desire to encounter the king in person, carried 
this daring leader into the thickest of the fight, where he 
thought his noble opponent was most surely to be met. 
Gustavus had also expressed a wish to meet his brave 
antagonist, but these hostile wishes remained ungrati- 
fied ; death first brought together these tv/o great heroes. 
Two musket-balls pierced the breast of Pappenheim; 
and his men forcibly carried him from the field. While 
they were conveying him to the rear, a murmur reached 
him that he whom he had sought lay dead upon the 
plain. When the truth of the report was confirmed to 
him, his look became brighter, his dying eye sparkled 
with a last gleam of Joy. "Tell the Duke of Friedland," 
said he, "that I lie without hope of life, but that I die 
happy, since I know that the implacable enemy of my 
religion has fallen on the same day." 

With Pappenheim, the good fortune of the imperial- 
ists departed. The cavalry of the left wing, already 
beaten, and only rallied by his exertions, no sooner 
missed their victorious leader, than they gave up 
everything for lost, and abandoned the field of battle in 
spiritless despair. The right wing fell into the same con- 
fusion, with the exception of a few regiments, which the 
bravery of their colonels Gotz, Terzky, Colloredo, and 
Piccolomini, compelled to keep their ground. The Swed- 

202 



GUSTAVUS ADOLPHUS AT LUTZEN 

ish infantry, with prompt determination, profited by the 
enemy's confusion. To fill up the gaps which death had 
made in the front line, they formed both lines into one, 
and with it made the final and decisive charge. A third 
time they crossed the trenches, and a third time they 
captured the battery. The sun was setting when the two 
lines closed. The strife grew hotter as it drew to an end; 
the last efforts of strength were mutually exerted, and 
skill and courage did their utmost to repair in these 
precious moments the fortune of the day. It was in 
vain; despair endows every one with superhuman 
strength; no one can conquer, no one will give way. 
The art of war seemed to exhaust its powers on one side, 
only to imfold some new and untried masterpiece of 
skill on the other. Night and darkness at last put an 
end to the fight, before the fury of the combatants was 
exhausted; and the contest only ceased when no one 
could any longer find an antagonist. Both armies sep- 
arated, as if by tacit agreement; the trumpets sounded, 
and each party claiming the victory, quitted the field. 
The artillery on both sides, as the horses could not be 
found, remained all night upon the field, at once the 
reward and the evidence of victory to him who should 
hold it. Wallenstein, in his haste to leave Leipzig and 
Saxony, forgot to remove his part. Not long after the 
battle was ended, Pappenheim's infantry, who had been 
imable to follow the rapid movements of their general, 
and who amounted to six regiments, marched on the 
field, but the work was done. A few hours earlier, so 
considerable a reinforcement would perhaps have de- 
cided the day in favor of the imperialists; and, even 
now, by remaining on the field, they might have saved 

203 



THE BOYS' BOOK OF BATTLES 

the duke's artillery, and made a prize of that of the 
Swedes. But they had received no orders to act; and, 
uncertain as to the issue of the battle, they retired to 
Leipzig, where they hoped to join the main body. 

The Duke of Friedland had retreated thither, and 
was followed on the morrow by the scattered remains of 
his army, without artillery, without colors, and almost 
without arms. The Duke of Weimar, it appears, after 
the toils of this bloody day, allowed the Swedish army 
some repose, between Liitzen and Weissenfels, near 
enough to the field of battle to oppose any attempt the 
enemy might make to recover it. Of the two armies, 
more than nine thousand men lay dead ; a still greater 
number were wounded, and among the imperialists, 
scarcely a man escaped from the field uninjured. The 
entire plain from Liitzen to the Canal was strewed with 
the wounded, the dying, and the dead. Many of the 
principal nobility had fallen on both sides. Even the 
Abbot of Fulda, who had mingled in the combat as a 
spectator, paid for his curiosity and his ill-timed zeal 
with his life. History says nothing of prisoners; a fur- 
ther proof of the animosity of the combatants, who 
neither gave nor took quarter. 

But it was a dear conquest, a dearer triumph! It was 
not till the fury of the conquest was over, that the full 
weight of the loss sustained was felt, and the shout of 
trimnph died away into a silent, gloomy despair. He 
who had led them to the charge, returned not with 
them; there he lies upon the field which he had won, 
mingled with the dead bodies of the common crowd. 
After a long and almost fruitless search, the corpse of the 

204 



GUSTAVUS ADOLPHUS AT LUTZEN 

king was discovered, not far from the great stone, 
which, for a hundred years before, had stood between 
Liitzen and the Canal, and which, from the memorable 
disaster of that day, still bears the name of the Stone of 
the Swedes. Covered with blood and wounds, so as 
scarcely to be recognized, trampled beneath the horses' 
hoofs, stripped by the rude hands of plunderers of its 
ornaments and clothes, his body was drawn from be- 
neath a heap of dead, conveyed to Weissenfels, and 
there delivered up to the lamentations of his soldiers 
and the last embraces of his queen. The first tribute had 
been paid to revenge, and blood had atoned for the 
blood of the monarch; but now affection assumed its 
rights, and tears of grief must flow for the man. The 
universal sorrow absorbs all individual woes. The 
generals, still stupefied by the unexpected blow, stood 
speechless and motionless around his bier, and no one 
trusted himself enough to contemplate the full extent of 
their loss. 



THE BATTLE OF NASEBY 

by obadiah bind-their-kings-in-chains-and-their- 

nobles-with-links-of-iron, sergeant in 

ireton's regiment 

[1645] 
BY THOMAS BABINGTON MACAULAY 

[The army of Cromwell was of remarkable caliber. High 
wages were given to the soldiers, and only those who were 
sober and God-fearing were permitted to join its ranks. 
Oaths, theft, gambhng, and drunkenness were unknown. As 
Macaulay says, "The most rigid discipline was found in 
company with the wildest enthusiasm." 

One peculiarity of the Puritan was his choice of given 
names for his children. He was not satisfied with simple 
Biblical names of one word, but frequently adopted a whole 
phrase, such as Zeal-of-the-Land, Praise-God, etc. 

The battle of Naseby, between the forces of Charles I and 
those of Cromwell, resulted in the utter defeat of the king. 
The royal army was nearly annihilated. The " Man of Blood " 
was the name given by the Puritans to King Charles. 

The Editor.] 

Oh! wherefore come ye forth, in triumph from the 
North, 
With your hands and your feet and your raiment all 
red? 
And wherefore doth your rout send forth a joyous 
shout? 
And whence be the grapes of the wine-press which ye 
tread? 

206 



THE BATTLE OF NASEBY 

Oh, evil was the root, and bitter was the fruit. 

And crimson was the juice of the vintage that we trod ; 

For we trampled on the throng of the haughty and the 
strong, 
Who sat in the high places, and slew the saints of God. 

It was about the noon of a glorious day of June, 

That we saw their banners dance, and their cuirasses 
shine, 
And the Man of Blood was there with his long essenced 
hair, 
And Astley, and Sir Marmaduke, and Rupert of the 
Rhine. 

Like a servant of the Lord, with his Bible and his sword, 
The general rode along us to form us to the fight, 

When a murmuring sound broke out, and swelled into 
a shout, 
Among the godless horsemen upon the tyrant's right. 

And hark! like the roar of the billows on the shore. 
The cry of battle rises along their charging line ! 

For God ! for the Cause ! for the Church ! for the Laws ! 
For Charles, King of England, and Rupert of the 
Rhine! 

The furious German comes, with his clarions and his 
drums, 
His bravoes of Alsatia, and pages of Whitehall; 
They are bursting on our flanks. Grasp your pikes, close 
your ranks, 
For Rupert never comes but to conquer or to fall. 

207 



THE BOYS' BOOK OF BATTLES 

They are here! They rush on! We are broken ! We are 

gone! 

Our left is borne before them like stubble on the blast. 

O Lord, put forth Thy might I O Lord, defend the right! 

Stand back to back in God's name, and fight it to the 

last. 

Stout Skippon hath a wound, the center hath given 
ground: 
Hark! hark! — what means the trampling of horse- 
men on our rear? 
Whose banner do I see, boys? 'T is he, thank God, 't is 
he, boys! 
Bear up another minute: brave Oliver is here. 

Their heads all stooping low, their points all in a 
row, 
Like a whirlwind on the trees, like a deluge on the 
dikes, 
Our cuirassiers have burst on the ranks of the accurst. 
And at a shock have scattered the forest of his pikes. 

Fast, fast the gallants ride, in some safe nook to hide 
Their coward heads, predestined to rot on Temple 
Bar: 
And he — he turns, he flies: shame on those cruel eyes 
That bore to look on torture, and dare not look on 
war! 

Ho! comrades, scour the plain, and, ere ye strip the 
slain. 
First give another stab to make your search secure, 

208 



THE BATTLE OF NASEBY 

Then shake from sleeves and pockets their broadpieces 
and lockets, 
The tokens of the wanton, the plunder of the poor. 

Fools! your doublets shone with gold, and your hearts 
were gay and bold, 
When you kissed your lily hands to your lemans to- 
day; 
And to-morrow shall the fox, from her chambers in the 
rocks, 
Lead forth her tawny cubs to howl above the prey. 

Where be your tongues that late mocked at heaven and 
hell and fate, 
And the fingers that once were so busy with your 
blades; 
Your perfumed satin clothes, your catches and your 
oaths, 
Your stage-plays and your sonnets, your diamonds 
and your spades? 

Down, down, forever down with the miter and the 
crown. 
With the Belial of the court, and the Mammon of the 
Pope; 
There is woe in Oxford halls: there is wail in Durham's 
stalls : 
The Jesuit smites his bosom: the bishop rends his 
cope. 
And she of the seven hills shall mourn her children's ills, 
And tremble when she thinks on the edge of England's 
sword; 

209 



ENGLAND 

And the kings of earth in fear shall shudder when they 
hear 
What the hand of God hath wrought for the Houses 
and the Word. 



GRANDMOTHER'S STORY OF BUNKER-HILL 
BATTLE 

[1775] 

AS SHE SAW IT FROM THE BELERY 
BY OLIVER WENDELL HOLMES 

'T IS like stirring living embers when, at eighty, one 

remembers 
All the achings and the quakings of " the times that tried 

men's souls;" 
When I talk of Whig and Tory, when I tell the Rebel 

story, 
To you the words are ashes, but to me they 're burning 

coals. 

I had heard the muskets' rattle of the April running 

battle; 
Lord Percy's hunted soldiers, I can see their red coats still; 
But a deadly chill comes o'er me, as the day looms up 

before me. 
When a thousand men lay bleeding on the slopes of 

Bunker's Hill. 

'T was a peaceful summer's morning, when the first 

thing gave us warning 
Was the booming of the cannon from the river and the 

shore : 
" Child," says grandma, "what 's the matter, what is all 

this noise and clatter? 
Have those scalping Indian devils come to murder us 

once more?" 

211 



THE BOYS' BOOK OF BATTLES 

Poor old soul ! my sides were shaking in the midst of all 

my quaking, 
To hear her talk of Indians when the guns began to roar : 
She had seen the burning village, and the slaughter and 

the pillage, 
When the Mohawks killed her father with their bullets 

through his door. 

Then I said, "Now, dear old granny, don't you fret and 

worry any, 
For I '11 soon come back and tell you whether this is work 

or play; 
There can't be mischief in it, so I won't be gone a 

minute" — 
For a minute then I started. I was gone the hvelong day. 

No time for bodice-lacing or for looking-glass grimacing; 
Down my hair went as I hurried, tumbling half-way to 

my heels; 
God forbid your ever knowing, when there 's blood 

around her flowing. 
How the lonely, helpless daughter of a quiet household 

feels! 

In the street I heard a thumping; and I knew it was the 

stumping 
Of the Corporal, our old neighbor, on that wooden leg he 

wore, 
With a knot of women round him, — it was lucky I had 

found him, 
So I followed with the others, and the Corporal marched 

before. 

212 



GRANDMOTHER'S STORY OF BUNKER HILL 

They were making for the steeple, — the old soldier and 

his people; 
The pigeons circled round us as we climbed the creaking 

stair, 
Just across the narrow river — O, so close it made me 

shiver ! — 
Stood a fortress on the hilltop that but yesterday was bare . 

Not slow our eyes to find it; well we knew who stood 
behind it, 

Though the earthwork hid them from us, and the stub- 
born walls were dumb: 

Here were sister, wife, and mother, looking wild upon 
each other, 

And their lips were white with terror as they said, The 

HOUR HAS come! 

The morning slowly wasted, not a morsel had we tasted, 
And our heads were almost splitting with the cannons' 

deafening thrill, 
When a figure tall and stately round the rampart strode 

sedately; 
It was Prescott, one since told me; he commanded on 

the hill. 

Every woman's heart grew bigger when we saw his 

manly figure, 
With the banyan buckled round it, standing up so 

straight and tall; 
Like a gentleman of leisure who is strolling out for 

pleasure. 
Through the storm of shells and cannon-shot he walked 

around the wall. 

213 



THE BOYS' BOOK OF BATTLES 

At eleven the streets were swarming, for the red-coats' 

ranks were forming; 
At noon in marching order they were moving to the piers; 
How the bayonets gleamed and glistened, as we looked 

far down, and listened 
To the trampling and the drum-beat of the belted 

grenadiers! 

At length the men have started, with a cheer (it seemed 

faint-hearted). 
In their scarlet regimentals, with their knapsacks on 

their backs, 
And the reddening, rippling water, as after a sea-fight's 

slaughter. 
Round the barges gliding onward blushed like blood 

along their tracks. 

So they crossed to the other border, and again they 

formed in order; 
And the boats came back for soldiers, came for soldiers, 

soldiers still: 
The time seemed everlasting to us women faint and 

fasting, — 
At last they're moving, marching, marching proudly up 

the hill. 

We can see the bright steel glancing all along the lines 

advancing — 
Now the front rank fires a volley — they have thrown 

away their shot; 
For behind their earthwork lying, all the balls above 

them flying, 
Our people need not hurry; so they wait and answer not. 

214 



GRANDMOTHER'S STORY OF BUNKER HILL 

Then the Corporal, our old cripple (he would swear 

sometimes and tipple) , — 
He had heard the bullets whistle (in the old French war) 

before, — 
Calls out in words of jeering, just as if they all were 

hearing, — 
And his wooden leg thumps fiercely on the dusty belfry 

floor: — 

"O! fire away, ye villains, and earn King George's 

shillin's, 
But ye '11 waste a ton of powder afore a 'rebel' falls; 
You may bang the dirt and welcome, they're as safe as 

Dan'l Malcolm 
Ten foot beneath the gravestone that you've splintered 

with your balls!" 

In the hush of expectation, in the awe and trepidation 
Of the dread approaching moment, we are wellnigh 

breathless all; 
Though the rotten bars are failing on the rickety belfry 

railing, 
We are crowding up against them like the waves against 

a wall. 

Just a glimpse (the air is clearer), they are nearer, — 

nearer, — nearer, 
When a flash — a curling smoke wreath — then a 

crash — the steeple shakes — 
The deadly truce is ended; the tempest's shroud is 

rended; 
Like a morning mist it gathered, like a thunder-cloud it 

breaks! 

215 



THE BOYS' BOOK OF BATTLES 

O the sight our eyes discover as the blue-black smoke 

blows over! 
The red-coats stretched in windrows as a mower rakes 

his hay; 
Here a scarlet heap is lying, there a headlong crowd is flying 
Like a billow that has broken and is shivered into spray. 

Then we cried, "The troops are routed! they are beat — 

it can't be doubted! 
God be thanked, the fight is over!" — Ah! the grim old 

soldier's smile! 
"Tell us, tell us why you look so?" (we could hardly 

speak, we shook so) , — 
"Are they beaten? Are they beaten? Are they 

beaten?" — "Wait a while." 

O the trembling and the terror! for too soon we saw our 

error; 
They are baffled, not defeated; we have driven them 

back in vain; 
And the columns that were scattered, round the colors 

that were tattered, 
Toward the sullen silent fortress turn their belted 

breasts again. 

All at once, as we are gazing, lo, the roofs of Charlestown 

blazing ! 
They have fired the harmless village; in an hour it will be 

down! 
The Lord in heaven confound them, rain his fire and 

brimstone round them, — 
The robbing, murdering red-coats, that would burn a 

peaceful town ! 

.2X6 



GRANDMOTHER'S STORY OF BUNKER HILL 

They are marching, stern and solemn ! we can see each 

massive column 
As they near the naked earth-mound with the slanting 

walls so steep. 
Have our soldiers got faint-hearted, and in noiseless 

haste departed? 
Are they panic-struck and helpless? Are they palsied or 

asleep? 

Now! the walls they're almost under! scarce a rod the 
foes asunder! 

Not a firelock flashed against them! up the earthwork 
they will swarm! 

But the words have scarce been spoken, when the omi- 
nous calm is broken, 

And a bellowing crash has emptied all the vengeance of 
the storm! 

So again, with murderous slaughter, pelted backwards to 

the water. 
Fly Pigot's running heroes and the frightened braves of 

Howe; 
And we shout, "At last they're done for, it's their 

barges they have run for: 
They are beaten, beaten, beaten; and the battle's over 

now!" 

And we looked, poor timid creatures, on the rough old 

soldier's features, 
Our lips afraid to question, but he knew what we would 

ask: 

217 



THE BOYS' BOOK OF BATTLES 

"Not sure," he said; "keep quiet, — once more, I guess, 

they'll try it — 
Here's damnation to the cut-throats!" — then he 

handed me his flask, 

Saying, " Gal, you're looking shaky; have a drop of old 

Jamaiky; 
I 'm af eard there '11 be more trouble afore the job is 

done;" 
So I took one scorching swallow ; dreadful faint I felt and 

hollow, 
Standing there from early morning when the firing was 

begun. 

All through those hours of trial I had watched a calm 

clock dial, 
As the hands kept creeping, creeping, — they were 

creeping round to four, 
When the old man said, "They 're forming with their 

bagonets fixed for storming: 
It's the death-grip that's a coming, — they will try the 

works once more." 

With brazen trimipets blaring, the flames behind them 
glaring, 

The deadly wall before them, in close array they 
come; 

Still onward, upward toiling, like a dragon's fold uncoil- 
ing, — 

Like the rattlesnake's shrill warning the reverberating 
drum! 

218 



GRANDMOTHER'S STORY OF BUNKER HILL 

Over heaps all torn and gory — shall I tell the fearful 

story, 
How they surged above the breastwork, as a sea breaks 

over a deck ; 
How, driven, yet scarce defeated, our worn-out men 

retreated, 
With their powder-horns all emptied, like the swimmers 

from a wreck? 

It has all been told and painted; as for me, they say I 

fainted, 
And the wooden-legged old Corporal stumped with me 

down the stair: 
When I woke from dreams affrighted the evening lamps 

were lighted, — 
On the floor a youth was lying; his bleeding breast was 

bare. 

And I heard through all the flurry, "Send for Warren! 

hurry! hurry! 
Tell him here's a soldier bleeding, and he'll come and 

dress his wound!" 
Ah, we knew not till the morrow told its tale of death 

and sorrow, 
How the starlight found him stiffened on the dark and 

bloody ground. 

Who the youth was, what his name was, where the place 

from which he came was. 
Who had brought him from the battle and had left him 

at our door, 

219 



THE BOYS' BOOK OF BATTLES 

He could not speak to tell us; but 't was one of our brave 

fellows, 
As the homespun plainly showed us which the dying 
soldier wore. 

For they all thought he was dying, as they gathered 

round him crying, — 
And they said, "O how they'll miss him!" and, "What 

li'ill his mother do?" 
Then, his eyelids just unclosing like a child's that has 

been dozing, 
He faintly murmured, "Mother!" — and — I saw his 

eyes w^ere blue. 

— "Why, grandma, how you're winking!" — Ah, my 

child, it sets me thinking 
Of a story not like this one. Well, he somehow lived 

along; 
So we came to know each other, and I nursed him like a 

— mother. 
Till at last he stood before me, tall, and rosy-cheeked, 

and strong. 

And we sometimes walked together in the pleasant 
summer weather; 

— "Please to tell us what his name was?" — Just your 

own, my little dear, — 
There's his picture Copley painted: we became so well 

acquainted, 
That — in short, that's why I'm grandma, and you 

children all are here! 



THE FIGHT BETWEEN THE SERAPIS AND 
THE BON HOMME RICHARD 

[1775-1781] 

BY JOEL TYLER HEADLEY 

Jones returned with his prizes to Paris, and offered his 
services to France. In hopes of getting command of a 
larger vessel he gave up the Ranger, but soon had cause 
to regret it, for he was left for a long time without em- 
plo3mient. He had been promised the Indian; and the 
Prince of Nassau, pleased by the daring of Jones, had 
promised to accompany him as a volunteer. But this 
fell through, together with many other projects, and but 
for the firm friendship of Franklin, he would have fared 
but poorly in the French capital. After a long series of 
annoyances and disappointments, he at length obtained 
command of a vessel, which, out of respect to Franklin, 
he named the Bon Homme Richard, the ' ' Poor Richard." 
With seven ships in all — a snug little squadron for 
Jones, had the different commanders been subordinate 
— he set sail from France, and steered for the coast of 
Ireland. The want of proper subordination was soon 
made manifest, for in a week's time the vessels, one after 
another, parted company, to cruise by themselves, till 
Jones had with him but the Alliance, Pallas, and Venge- 
ance. In a tremendous storm he bore away, and after 
several days of gales and heavy seas, approached the 
shore of Scotland. Taking several prizes near the Firth 
of Forth, he ascertained that a twenty-four-gun ship, 
and two cutters were in the roads. These he determined 

221 



JOHN PAUL JONES IN THE REVOLUTION 

to cut out, and, landing at Leith, lay the town under 
contribution. The inhabitants supposed his little fleet to 
be English vessels in pursuit of Paul Jones; and a mem- 
ber of Parliament, a wealthy man in the place, sent off a 
boat, requesting powder and balls to defend himself, as 
he said, against the "pirate Paul Jones." Jones very 
politely sent back the bearer with a barrel of powder, ex- 
pressing his regrets that he had no shot to spare. Soon 
after, in his pompous, inflated manner, he summoned 
the town to surrender; but the wind blowing steadily off 
the land, he could not approach with his vessel. 

At length, however, the wind changed, and the Rich- 
ard stood boldly in for the shore. The inhabitants, as 
they saw her bearing steadily up towards the place, 
were filled with terror, and ran hither and thither in 
affright; but the good minister, Rev. Mr. Shirra, assem- 
bled his flock on the beach, to pray the Lord to deliver 
them from their enemies. He was an eccentric man, one 
of the quaintest of the quaint Scotch divines, so that his 
prayers, even in those days, were often quoted for their 
oddity and even roughness. 

Whether the following prayer is literally true or not, 
it is difficult to tell, but there is little doubt that the 
invocation of the excited, eccentric old man was suffi- 
ciently odd. It is said that, having gathered his con- 
gregation on the beach in full sight of the vessel, which, 
under a press of canvas, was making a long tack that 
brought her close to the town, he knelt down on the 
sand, and thus began: "Now, dear Lord, dinna ye think 
it a shame for ye to send this vile pirate to rob our folk 
o' Kirkaldy; for ye ken they're puir enow already, and 
hae naething to spare. The way the wind blaws he'll 

222 



THE BOYS' BOOK OF BATTLES 

be here in a jiffy, and wha kens what he may do; he's 
nae too good for onything. Mickle 's the mischief he has 
done aheady. He'll burn their houses, tak their very 
claes, and tirl them to the sark. And waes me! wha kens 
but the bluidy villain might take their lives! The puir 
weemen are maist frightened out o' their wits, and the 
bairns skirling after them. I canna think of it ! I canna 
think of it! I hae been long a faithful servant to ye, 
Lord; but gin ye dinna turn the wind about, and blaw 
the scoundrel out of our gate, I'll nae stir a foot: but 
will just sit here till the tide comes. Sae tak ye'r will 
o't." To the no little astonishment of the good people, 
a fierce gale at that moment began to blow, which sent 
one of Jones's prizes ashore, and forced him to stand out 
to sea. This fixed forever the reputation of good Mr. 
Shirra; and he did not himself wholly deny that he be- 
lieved his intercessions brought on the gale, for when- 
ever his parishioners spoke of it to him, he always 
replied, "I prayed, but the Lord sent the wind." 

Stretching from thence along the English coast, Jones 
cruised about for a whUe, and at length fell in with the 
Alliance, which had parted company with him a short 
time previous. With this vessel, the Pallas and Venge- 
ance, — making, with the Richard, four ships, — he 
stood to the north; when, on the afternoon of Septem- 
ber 23d, 1779, he saw a fleet of forty-one sail hugging 
the coast. This was the Baltic fleet, under the convoy 
of the Serapis, of forty-one guns, and the Countess of 
Scarborough, of twenty guns. Jones immediately issued 
his orders to form line of battle, while with his ship he 
gave chase. The convoy scattered like wild pigeons, and 
ran for the shore, to place themselves under the protec- 

223 



THE BOYS' BOOK OF BATTLES 

tion of a fort, but the two warships advanced to the 
conflict. 

It was a beautiful day, the wind was light, so that 
not a wave broke the smooth surface of the sea — and all 
was smiling and tranquil on land, as the hostile forces 
slowly approached each other. The piers of Scarborough 
were crowded with spectators, and the old promontory 
of Flamborough, over three miles distant, was black 
with the multitude assembled to witness the engage- 
ment. The breeze was so light that the vessels ap- 
proached each other slowly, as if reluctant to come to 
the mortal struggle, and mar that placid scene and that 
beautiful evening with the sound of battle. It was a 
thrilling spectacle, those bold ships with their sails all 
set, moving sternly up to each other. At length the 
cloudless sun sank behind the hills, and twilight deep- 
ened over the waters. The next moment the full round 
moon pushed its broad disk over the tranquil waters, 
bathing in her soft beams the white sails that now 
seemed like gentle moving clouds on the deep. 

The Pallas stood for the Countess of Scarborough, 
while the Alliance, after having also come within range, 
withdrew and took up a position where she could safely 
contemplate the fight. Paul Jones, now in his element, 
paced the deck to and fro, impatient for the contest; 
and at length approached within pistol-shot of the 
Serapis. The latter was a new ship, with an excellent 
crew, and throwing, with every broadside, seventy-five 
pounds more than the Richard. Jones, however, rated 
this lightly, and with his old, half-worn-out merchant- 
man, closed fearlessly with his powerful antagonist. 
As he approached the latter, Captain Pearson hailed 

224 



THE FIGHT OF THE BON HOMME RICHARD 

him with "What ship is that?" "I can't hear what you 
say," was the reply. "What ship is that?" rang back. 
"Answer immediately, or I shall fire into you." A shot 
from the Richard was the significant answer, and imme- 
diately both vessels opened their broadsides. Two of the 
three old eighteen-pounders of the Richard burst at the 
first fire, and Jones was compelled to close the lower 
deck ports, which were not opened again during the 
action. This was an ominous beginning, for it reduced 
the force of the Richard to one third below that of the 
Serapis. The broadsides now became more rapid, pre- 
senting a strange spectacle to the people on shore, the 
flashes of the guns amid the cloud of smoke, followed by 
the roar that shook the coast, the dim moonlight, serv- 
ing to but half-reveal the struggling vessels, conspired 
to render it one of terror and of dread. The two vessels 
kept moving alongside, constantly crossing each other's 
track; now passing each other's bow, and now the stern; 
pouring in such terrific broadsides as made both friend 
and foe stagger. Thus fighting and maneuvering, they 
swept onward, until at length the Richard got foul of 
the Serapis, and Jones gave the orders to board. His 
men were repulsed, and Captain Pearson hailed him to 
know if he had struck. " I have not yet begun to fight," 
was the short and stern reply of Jones; and backing his 
topsails, while the Serapis kept full, the vessels parted, 
and again came alongside, and broadside answered broad- 
side with fearful effect. But Jones soon saw that this 
mode of fighting would not answer. The superiority in 
weight of metal gave them great advantage in this heavy 
cannonading; especially as his vessel was old and rotten, 
while every timber in that of his antagonist was new 

225 



THE BOYS' BOOK OF BATTLES 

and stanch; and so he determined to throw himself 
aboard of the enemy. In doing this, he fell farther than 
he intended, and his vessel catching a moment by the 
jib boom of the Serapis, carried it away, and the two 
ships swung close alongside of each other, head and 
stern, the muzzles of the guns touching. Jones immedi- 
ately ordered them to be lashed together; and in his 
eagerness to secure them, helped with his own hands to 
tie the lashings. Captain Pearson did not like this close 
fighting, for it destroyed all the advantage his superior 
sailing and heavier guns gave him, and so let drop an 
anchor to swing his ship apart. But the two vessels were 
firmly clenched in the embrace of death; for, added to 
all the lashings, a spare anchor of the Serapis had hooked 
the quarter of the Richard, so that when the former 
obeyed her cable, and swung round to the tide, the latter 
swung also. Finding that he could not unlock the des- 
perate embrace in which his foe had clasped him, the 
Englishman again opened his broadsides. The action 
then became terrific; the guns touched muzzles, and the 
gunners, in ramming home their cartridges, were com- 
pelled frequently to thrust their ramrods into the enemy's 
ports. Never before had an English commander met 
such a foeman nor fought such a battle. The timbers 
rent at every explosion; and huge gaps opened in the 
sides of each vessel, while they trembled at each dis- 
charge as if in the mouth of a volcano. With his heaviest 
guns burst, and part of his deck blown up, Jones still 
kept up this unequal fight, with a bravery unparalleled 
in naval warfare. He, with his own hands, helped to 
work the guns; and blackened with powder and smoke, 
moved about among his men with the stern expression 

226 



THE FIGHT OF THE BON HOMME RICHARD 

never to yield, written on his delicate features in lines 
not to be mistaken. To compensate for the superiority 
of the enemy's guns, he had to discharge his own with 
greater rapidity, so that after a short time they became 
so hot that they bounded like mad creatures in their 
fastenings; and at every discharge the gallant ship 
trembled like a smitten ox, from kelson to crosstrees, 
and heeled over till her yardarms almost swept the 
water. In the mean time his topmen did terrible execu- 
tion. Hanging amid the rigging, they dropped hand 
grenades on the enemy's decks with fatal precision. One 
daring fellow walked out on the end of the yard with a 
bucket full of these missiles in his hand, and hurling 
them below, finally set fire to a heap of cartridges. The 
blaze and explosion which followed were terrific — arms 
and legs went heavenward together, and nearly sixty 
men were killed or wounded by this sudden blow. They 
succeeded at length in driving most of the enemy below 
decks. The battle then presented a singular aspect — 
Jones made the upper deck of the Serapis too hot for her 
crew, while the latter tore his lower decks so dreadfully 
with her broadsides that his men could not remain 
there a moment. Thus they fought, one above and the 
other beneath, the blood in the mean time flowing in 
rills over the decks of both. Ten times was the Serapis 
on fire, and as often were the flames extinguished. 
Never did a man struggle braver than the English com- 
mander, but a still braver heart opposed him. At this 
juncture the Alliance came up, and instead of pouring 
her broadsides into the Serapis, hurled them against 
the Poor Richard ! — now poor, indeed ! Jones was in a 
transport of rage, but he could not help himself. 

227 



THE BOYS' BOOK OF BATTLES 

In this awful crisis, fighting by the light of the guns, 
for the smoke had shut out that of the moon, the gunner 
and carpenter both rushed up, declaring the ship was 
sinking. The shot-holes which had pierced the hull of 
the Richard between wind and water had already sunk 
below the surface, and the water was pouring in like a 
torrent. The carpenter ran to pull down the colors, 
which were still flying amid the smoke of battle, while 
the gunner cried, "Quarter, for God's sake, quarter!" 
Still keeping up this cry, Jones hurled a pistol, which he 
had just fired at the ene«ny, at his head, which fractured 
his skull, and sent him headlong down the hatchway. 
Captain Pearson hailed to know if he had struck, and 
was answered by Jones with a "No," accompanied by 
an oath, that told that, if he could do no better, he would 
go down, with his colors flying. The master-at-arms, 
hearing the gunner's cry, and thinking the ship was going 
to the bottom, released a hundred English prisoners 
into the midst of the confusion. One of these, passing 
through the fire to his own ship, told Captain Pearson 
that the Richard was sinking, and if he would hold out 
a few moments longer, she must go down. Imagine the 
condition of Jones at this moment — with every battery 
silenced, except the one at which he still stood unshaken, 
his ship gradually settling beneath him, a hundred pris- 
oners swarming his deck, and his own consort raking 
him with her broadsides, his last hope seemed about to 
expire. Still he would not yield. His ofl&cers urged him 
to surrender, while cries of quarter arose on every side. 
Undismayed and resolute to the last, he ordered the 
prisoners to the pmnps, declaring if they refused to 
work he would take them to the bottom with him. Thus 

228 



THE FIGHT OF THE BON HOMME RICHARD 

making panic fight panic, he continued the conflict. The 
spectacle at this moment was awful — both vessels 
looked like wrecks, and both were on fire. The flames 
shot heavenward around the mast of the Serapis, and 
at length, at half-past ten, she struck. For a time, the 
inferior ofl&cers did not know which had yielded, such a 
perfect tumult had the fight become. For three hours 
and a half had this incessant cannonade, within yard- 
arm and yardarm of each other, continued, piling three 
hundred dead and wounded men on those shattered 
decks. Nothing but the courage and stern resolution of 
Jones never to surrender saved him from defeat. 

When the morning dawned, the Bon Homme Richard 
presented a most deplorable appearance — she lay a 
complete wreck on the sea, riddled through, and liter- 
ally stove to pieces. There were six feet of water in the 
hold, while above she was on fire in two places. Jones 
had put forth every effort to save the vessel in which he 
had won such renown, but in vain. He kept her afloat 
all the following day and night, but next morning she 
was found to be going. The waves rolled through her — • 
she swayed from side to side, like a dying man — then 
gave a lurch forward, and went down head foremost. 
Jones stood on the deck of the English ship, and watched 
her as he would a dying friend, and finally, with a swell- 
ing heart, saw her last mast disappear, and the eddy- 
ing waves close, with a rushing sound, over her as she 
sank with the dead, who had so nobly fallen on her 
decks. They could have wished no better coffin or 
burial. 



IN THE REVOLT OF THE VENDUE 

[1793] 

BY VICTOR HUGO 

[The peasants of the Vendee, a department of western 
France, were devoted to the local nobles and had no sym- 
pathy with the French Revolution. They rose against the 
Republican Government in 1789; and in 1793, indignant 
at the conscription laws, and hoping for the aid of England, 
they made angry resistance. This lasted for three years 
before they were subdued. 

The Editor.] 

As we have just seen, the peasants, on arriving at Del, 
dispersed themselves through the town, each man fol- 
lowing his own fancy, as happens when troops "obey 
from friendship," a favorite expression with the Ven- 
deans, — a species of obedience which makes heroes 
but not troopers. They thrust the artillery out of the 
way along with the baggage, under the arches of the old 
market-hall. They were weary; they ate, drank, counted 
their rosaries, and lay down pell-mell across the principal 
street, which was encumbered rather than guarded. 

As night came on, the greater portion fell asleep, with 
their heads on their knapsacks, some having their wives 
beside them, for the peasant women often followed their 
husbands, and the robust ones acted as spies. It was a 
mild July evening; the constellation glittered in the deep 
purple of the sky. The entire bivouac, which resembled 
rather the halt of a caravan than an army encamped, 
gave itself up to repose. Suddenly, amid the dull 

230 



IN THE REVOLT OF THE VENDEE 

gleams of twilight, such as had not yet closed their eyes 
saw three pieces of ordnance pointed at the entrance 
of the street. It was Gauvain's artillery. He had sur- 
prised the main-guard. He was in the town, and his 
column held the top of the street. 

A peasant started up, crying, "Who goes there?" 
and fired his musket; a cannon-shot replied. Then a 
furious discharge of musketry burst forth. The whole 
drowsy crowd sprang up with a start. A rude shock, — 
to fall asleep under the stars and wake under a volley 
of grape-shot. 

The first moments were terrific. There is nothing 
so tragic as the aimless swarming of a thunderstricken 
crowd. They flung themselves on their arms; they 
yelled, they ran; many fell. The assaulted peasants no 
longer knew what they were about, and blindly shot one 
another. The townspeople, stunned with fright, rushed 
in and out of their houses, and wandered frantically 
amid the hubbub. Families shrieked to one another. 
A dismal combat ensued, in which women and children 
were mingled. The balls, as they whistled overhead, 
streaked the darkness with rays of light. A fusillade 
poured from every dark corner. There was nothing but 
smoke and tumult. The entanglement of the baggage- 
wagons and the cannon-carriages was added to the con- 
fusion. The horses became unmanageable; the wounded 
were trampled under foot. The groans of the poor 
wretches, helpless on the ground, filled the air. Horror 
here, stupefaction there. Soldiers and officers sought 
for one another. In the midst of all this could be seen 
creatures made indifferent to the awful scene by per- 
sonal preoccupations. A woman sat nursing her new- 

231 



THE BOYS' BOOK OF BATTLES 

born babe, seated on a bit of wall, against which her 
husband leaned with his leg broken; and he, while his 
blood was flowing, tranquilly loaded his rifle and fired 
at random, straight before him into the darkness. Men 
lying flat on the ground fired across the spokes of the 
wagon-wheels. At moments there rose a hideous din of 
clamors, then the great voices of the cannon drowned 
all. It was awful. It was like a felling of trees; they 
dropped one upon another. Gauvain poured out a 
deadly fire from his ambush, and suffered little loss. 

Still the peasants, courageous amid their disorder, 
ended by putting themselves on the defensive ; they re- 
treated into the market, — a vast, obscure redoubt, a 
forest of stone pillars. There they again made a stand; 
anything which resembled a wood gave them confidence. 
Imanus supplied the absence of Lantenac as best he 
could. They had cannon, but to the great astonishment 
of Gauvain they did not make use of it ; that was owing 
to the fact that the artillery officers had gone with the 
marquis to reconnoiter Mount Dol, and the peasants 
did not know how to manage the culverins and demi- 
culverins. But they riddled with balls the Blues who 
cannonaded them; they replied to the grape-shot by 
volleys of musketry. It was now they who were shel- 
tered. They had heaped together the drays, the tum- 
brels, the casks, all the litter of the old market, and 
improvised a lofty barricade, with openings through 
which they could pass their carbines. From these holes 
their fusillade was murderous. The whole was quickly 
arranged. In a quarter of an hour the market pre- 
sented an impregnable front. 

This became a serious matter for Gauvain. This 

232 



IN THE REVOLT OF THE VEND£E 

market suddenly transformed into a citadel was unex- 
pected. The peasants were inside it, massed and solid. 
Gauvain's surprise had succeeded, but he ran the risk of 
defeat. He got down from his saddle. He stood atten- 
tively studying the darkness, his arms folded, clutching 
his sword in one hand, erect, in the glare of a torch which 
lighted his battery. The gleam, falling on his tall fig- 
ure, made him visible to the men behind the barricade. 
He became an aim for them, but he did not notice it. 
The shower of balls sent out from the barricade fell 
about him as he stood there, lost in thought. But he 
could oppose cannon to all these carbines, and cannon 
always ends by getting the advantage. Victory rests 
with him who has the artillery. His battery, well- 
manned, insured him the superiority. 

Suddenly a lightning-flash burst from the shadowy 
market; there was a sound hke a peal of thunder, and a 
ball broke through a house above Gauvain's head. The 
barricade was replying to the cannon with its own voice. 
What had happened? Something new had occurred. 
The artillery was no longer confined to one side. A sec- 
ond ball followed the first and buried itself in the wall 
close to Gauvain. A third knocked his hat off on the 
ground. These balls were of a heavy caliber. It was a 
sixteen-pounder that fired. 

"They are aiming at you, Commandant," cried the 
artillerymen. 

They extinguished the torch. Gauvain, as if in a 
reverie, picked up his hat. Some one had in fact aimed 
at Gauvain: it was Lantenac. The marquis had just 
arrived within the barricade from the opposite side. 
Imanus had hurried to meet him. 

233 



THE BOYS' BOOK OF BATTLES 

" Monseigneur, we are surprised!" 

"By whom?" 

*'I do not know." 

"Is the route to Dinan free?" 

"I think so." 

"We must begin a retreat." 

"It has commenced. A good many have run away." 

"We must not run; we must fall back. Why are you 
not making use of this artillery?" 

"The men lost their heads; besides, the officers were 
not here." 

"I am come." 

"Monseigneur, I have sent toward Fougeres all I 
could of the baggage, the women, everything useless. 
What is to be done with the three little prisoners?" 

"Ah, those children!" 

"Yes." 

"They are our hostages. Have them taken to La 
Tourgue." 

This said, the marquis rushed to the barricade. With 
the arrival of the chief the whole face of affairs changed. 
The barricade was ill-constructed for artillery; there was 
only room for two cannon ; the marquis put in position 
a couple of sixteen-pounders, for which loopholes were 
made. As he leaned over one of the guns, watching the 
enemy's battery through the opening, he perceived 
Gauvain. 

"It is he!" cried the marquis. 

Then he took the swab and rammer himself, loaded 
the piece, sighted it, and fired. Thrice he aimed at 
Gauvain and missed. The third time he only succeeded 
in knocking his hat off. 

234 



IN THE REVOLT OF THE VENDEE 

"Numbskull!" muttered Lantenac; "a little lower, 
and I should have taken his head." Suddenly the torch 
went out, and he had only darkness before him. "So 
be it!" said he. Then turning toward the peasant gun- 
ners, he cried: "Now let them have it!" 

Gauvain, on his side, was not less in earnest. The 
seriousness of the situation increased. A new phase of 
the combat developed itself. The barricade had begun 
to use cannon. Who could tell if it were not about to 
pass from the defensive to the offensive? He had before 
him, after deducting the killed and fugitives, at least 
five thousand combatants, and he had left only twelve 
hundred serviceable men. What would happen to the 
republicans if the enemy perceived their paucity of 
numbers? The roles were reversed. He had been the 
assailant, — he would become the assailed. If the barri- 
cade were to make a sortie, everything might be lost. 
What was to be done? He could no longer think of at- 
tacking the barricade in front; an attempt at main force 
would be foolhardy: twelve hundred men cannot dis- 
lodge five thousand. To rush upon them was impossible; 
to wait would be fatal. He must make an end. But how? 

Gauvain belonged to the neighborhood; he was ac- 
quainted with the town; he knew that the old market- 
house where the Vendeans were intrenched was backed 
by a labyrinth of narrow and crooked streets. He 
turned toward his lieutenant, who was that valiant 
Captain Guechamp, afterward famous for clearing out 
the forest of Concise, where Jean Chouan was born, and 
for preventing the capture of Bourgneuf by holding the 
dike of La Chaine against the rebels. 

"Guechamp," said be, "I leave you in command. 

235 



THE BOYS' BOOK OF BATTLES 

Fire as fast as you can. Riddle the barricade with can- 
non-balls. Keep all those fellows over yonder busy." 

"I understand," said Guechamp. 

"Mass the whole column with their guns loaded, and 
hold them ready to make an onslaught." He added a 
few words in Guechamp's ear. 

"I hear," said Guechamp. 

Gauvain resumed, ''Are all our drummers on foot?" 

"Yes." 

"We have nine. Keep two, and give me seven." 

The seven drummers ranged themselves in silence in 
front of Gauvain. Then he said: "Battalion of the Bon- 
net Rouge!" 

Twelve men, of whom one was a sergeant, stepped out 
from the main body of the troop. 

"I demand the whole battalion," said Gauvain. 

"Here it is," replied the sergeant. 

"You are twelve!" 

"There are twelve of us left." 

"It is well," said Gauvain. 

There was a forage wagon standing near; Gauvain 
pointed toward it with his finger. "Sergeant, order 
your men to make some straw ropes and twist them 
about their guns, so that there will be no noise if they 
knock together." 

A minute passed; the order was silently executed in 
the darkness. 

"It is done," said the sergeant. 

"Soldiers, take off your shoes," commanded Gauvain. 

"We have none," returned the sergeant. 

They numbered, counting the drummers, nineteen 
men; Gauvain made the twentieth. He cried: "Follow 

236 



IN THE REVOLT OF THE VENDfiE 

me! Single file! The drummers next to me, the bat- 
talion behind them. Sergeant, you will command the 
battalion." 

He put himself at the head of the column, and while 
the firing on both sides continued, these twenty men, 
gliding along like shadows, plunged into the deserted 
lanes. The line marched thus for some time, twisting 
along the fronts of the houses. The whole town seemed 
dead; the citizens -were hidden in their cellars. Every 
door was barred; every shutter closed; no light to be 
seen anywhere. Amid the silence this principal street 
kepfup its din; the cannonading continued; the repub- 
lican battery and the royalist barricade spit forth their 
volleys with undiminished fury. 

After twenty minutes of this tortuous march, Gau- 
vain, who kept his way unerringly through the darkness, 
reached the end of a lane which led into the broad 
street, but on the other side of the market-house. The 
position was turned. In this direction there was no 
intrenchment, according to the eternal imprudence of 
barricade builders; the market was open, and the 
entrance free among the pillars where some baggage- 
wagons stood ready to depart. Gauvain and his nine- 
teen men had the five thousand Vendeans before them, 
but their backs instead of their faces. 

Gauvain spoke in a low voice to the sergeant; the 
soldiers untwisted the straw from their guns; the twelve 
grenadiers posted themselves in line behind the angle 
of the lane, and the seven drummers waited with their 
drumsticks Hfted. The artillery firing was intermittent. 
Suddenly, in a pause between the discharges, Gauvain 
waved his sword, and cried in a voice which rang like a 

237 



THE BOYS' BOOK OF BATTLES 

trumpet through the silence: "Two hundred men to the 
right; two hundred men to the left; all the rest in the 
center!" 

The twelve muskets fired, and the seven drums 
beat. 

Gauvain uttered the formidable battle-cry of the 
Blues: "To your bayonets! Down upon them!" 

The effect was prodigious. This whole peasant mass 
felt itself surprised in the rear, and believed that it had a 
fresh army at its back. At the same instant, on hearing 
the drums, the column which Guechamp commanded at 
the head of the street began to move, sounding the 
charge in its turn, and flung itself at a run on the barri- 
cade. The peasants found themselves between two 
fires. Panic magnifies: a pistol-shot sounds like the re- 
port of a cannon; in moments of terror the imagination 
heightens every noise; the barking of a dog sounds like 
the roar of a lion. Add to this the fact that the peasant 
catches fright as easily as thatch catches fire; and as 
quickly as a blazing thatch becomes a conflagration, a 
panic among peasants becomes a rout. An indescribably 
confused flight ensued. 

In a few instants the market-hall was empty; the 
terrified rustics broke away in all directions; the officers 
were powerless; Imanus uselessly killed two or three 
fugitives; nothing was to be heard but the cry, "Save 
yourselves!" The army poured through the streets of 
the town like water through the holes of a sieve, and 
dispersed into the open country with the rapidity of a 
cloud carried along by a whirlwind. Some fled toward 
Chateauneuf, some toward Plerguer, others toward 
Antrain. 

238 



IN THE REVOLT OF THE VENDEE 

The Marquis de Lantenac watched this stampede. 
He spiked the guns with his own hands and then 
retreated, — the last of all, slowly, composedly, saying 
to himself, "Decidedly, the peasants will not stand. 
We must have the English." 



THE BATTLE OF THE PYRAMIDS 

[1798] 

BY JOHN S. C. ABBOTT 

Early on the morning of the 6th of July, the army com- 
menced its march over the apparently boundless plain of 
shifting sands. No living creature met the eye but a few- 
Arab horsemen, who occasionally appeared and disap- 
peared at the horizon, and who, concealing themselves 
behind the sand-hills, immediately murdered any strag- 
glers who wandered from the ranks, or from sickness 
or exhaustion loitered behind. Four days of inconceiv- 
able suffering were occupied in crossing the desert. The 
soldiers, accustomed to the luxuriance, beauty, and 
abundance of the valleys of Italy, were plunged into 
the most abject depression. Even the officers found 
their firmness giving way, and Lannes and Murat, in 
parox}'sms of despair, dashed their hats upon the sand, 
and trampled them imder foot. Many fell and perished 
on the long and dreary route. But the dense columns 
toiled on, hour after hour, weary, hungry, and faint, and 
thirsty, the hot sun blazing down upon their unsheltered 
heads, and the yielding sands burning their blistered 
feet. At the commencement of the enterprise, Napoleon 
had promised to each of his soldiers seven acres of land. 
As they looked around upon this dreary and boundless 
ocean of sand, they spoke jocularly of his moderation in 
promising them but seven acres. "The young rogue," 
said they, "might have safely offered us as much as we 

240 



THE BATTLE OF THE PYRAMIDS 

chose to take. We certainly should not have abused his 
good-nature." 

Nothing can show more strikingly the singular control 
which Napoleon had obtained over his army than the 
fact that, under these circumstances, no one murmured 
against him. He toiled along on foot at the head of the 
column, sharing the fatigue of the most humble soldiers. 
Like them, he threw himself upon the sands at night, 
with the sand for his pillow, and, secreting no luxuries 
for himself, he ate the coarse beans which afforded the 
only food for the army. He was ever the last to fold his 
cloak around him for the night, and the first to spring 
from the ground in the morning. The soldiers bitterly 
cursed the Government who had sent them to that land 
of barrenness and desolation. Seeing the men of science 
stopping to examine the antiquities, they accused them 
of being the authors of the expedition, and revenged 
themselves with witticisms. But no one uttered a 
word against Napoleon. His presence overawed all. He 
seemed to be insensible to hunger, thirst, or fatigue. It 
was observed that, while all others were drenched with 
perspiration, not a drop of moisture oozed from his brow. 

Through all the hours of this dreary march, not a word 
or gesture escaped him which indicated the slightest 
embarrassment or inquietude. One day he approached 
a group of discontented officers, and said to them, in 
tones of firmness which at once brought them to their 
senses, "You are holding mutinous language! Beware! 
It is not your being six feet high which will save you 
from being shot in a couple of hours." 

In the midst of the desert, when gloom and despond- 
ency had taken possession of all hearts, unbounded joy 

241 



THE BOYS' BOOK OF BATTLES 

was excited by the appearance of a lake of crystal 
water but a few miles before them, with villages and 
palm trees beautifully reflected in its clear and glassy 
depths. The parched and panting troops rushed eagerly 
on to plunge into the delicious waves. Hour after hour 
passed, and they approached no nearer the elysium 
before them. Dreadful was their disappointment when 
they found that it was all an illusion, and that they were 
pursuing the mirage of the dry and dusty desert. At one 
time Napoleon, with one or two of his officers, wandered 
a Httle distance from the main body of his army. A 
troop of Arab horsemen, concealed by some sand-hills, 
watched his movements, but for some unknown reason, 
when he was entirely in their power, did not harm him. 
Napoleon soon perceived his peril, and escaped un- 
molested. Upon his return to the troops, peacefully 
smiUng, he said, "It is not written on high that I am to 
perish by the hands of the Arabs." 

As the army drew near the Nile, the Mameluke horse- 
men increased in numbers, and in the frequency and the 
recklessness of their attacks. Their appearance and the 
impetuosity of their onset was most imposing. Each 
one was mounted on a fleet Arabian steed, and was 
armed with pistol, saber, carbine, and blunderbuss. The 
carbine was a short gun, which threw a small bullet with 
great precision. The blunderbuss was also a short gun, 
with a large bore, capable of holding a number of balls, 
and of doing execution without exact aim. These fierce 
warriors, accustomed to the saddle almost from infancy, 
presented an array indescribably brilHant, as, with gay 
turbans, and waving plumes, and gaudy banners, and 
gold-spangled robes, in meteoric splendor, with the 

242 



BONAPARTE BEFORE THE SPHINX 



THE BATTLE OF THE PYRAMIDS 

swiftness of the wind, they burst from behind the sand- 
hills. Charging like the rush of the tornado, they rent 
the air with their hideous yells, and discharged their 
carbines while in full career, and halted, wheeled, and 
retreated with a precision and celerity which amazed 
even the most accomplished horsemen of the Army of 
Italy. 

The extended sandy plains were exactly adapted to 
the maneuvers of these flying herds. The least motion 
or the shghtest breath of wind raised a cloud of dust, 
blinding, choking, and smothering the French, but ap- 
parently presenting no annoyance either to the Arab 
rider or to his horse. If a weary straggler loitered a few 
steps behind the toiling column, or if any soldiers ven- 
tured to leave the ranks in pursuit of the Mamelukes in 
their bold attacks, certain and instant death was encoun- 
tered. A wild troop, enveloped in clouds of dust, like 
spirits from another world, dashed upon them, cut down 
the adventurers with their keen Damascus blades, and 
disappeared in the desert almost before a musket could 
be leveled at them. 

After five days of inconceivable suffering, the long- 
wished-for Nile was seen, glittering through the sand- 
hills of the desert, and bordered by a fringe of the richest 
luxuriance. The scene burst upon the view of the pant- 
ing soldiers like a vision of enchantment. Shouts of joy 
burst from the ranks. All discipHne and order were 
instantly forgotten. The whole army of thirty thousand 
men, with horses and camels, rushed forward, a tumultu- 
ous throng, and plunged, in the delirium of excitement, 
into the waves. They luxuriated, with indescribable 
delight, in the cool and refreshing stream. They rolled 

243 



THE BOYS' BOOK OF BATTLES 

over and over in the water, shouting and frolicking in 
wild joy. Reckless of consequences, they drank and 
drank again, as if they never could be satiated with the 
delicious beverage. 

In the midst of this scene of turbulent and almost 
frenzied exultation, a cloud of dust was seen in the dis- 
tance, the trampling of hoofs was heard, and a body of 
nearly a thousand Mameluke horsemen, on fleet Ara- 
bian chargers, came sweeping down upon them with 
fiendlike velocity, their sabers flashing in the sunhght, 
and rending the air with their hideous yells. The drums 
beat the alarm, the trumpets sounded, and the veteran 
soldiers, drilled to the most perfect mechanical precision, 
instantly formed in squares, with the artillery at the 
angles, to meet the foe. In a moment, the assault, like a 
tornado, fell upon them. But it was a tornado striking a 
rock. Not a line wavered. A palisade of bristling bayo- 
nets met the breasts of the horses, and they recoiled from 
the shock. A volcanic burst of fire, from artillery and 
musketry, rolled hundreds of steeds and riders together 
in the dust. The survivors, wheehng their unchecked 
chargers, disappeared with the same meteoric rapidity 
with which they had approached. 

The flotilla now appeared in sight, having arrived at 
the destined spot at the precise hour designated by 
Napoleon. This was not accident. It was the result of 
that wonderful power of mind and extent of information 
which had enabled Napoleon perfectly to understand 
the difficulties of the two routes, and to give his orders 
in such a way that they could be and would be obeyed. 
It was remarked by Napoleon's generals that, during a 
week's residence in Egypt, he acquired apparently as 

244 



THE BATTLE OF THE PYRAMIDS 

perfect an acquaintance with the country as if it had 
been his native land. 

The whole moral aspect of the army was now changed 
with the change in the aspect of the country. The ver- 
satile troops forgot their sufferings, and, rejoicing in 
abundance, danced and sang beneath the refreshing 
shade of sycamores and palm trees. The fields were 
waving with luxuriant harvests. Pigeons were abun- 
dant. The most delicious watermelons were brought to 
the camp in inexhaustible profusion; but the villages 
were poor and squalid, and the houses were hovels of 
mud. The execrations in which the soldiers had in- 
dulged in the desert now gave place to jokes and glee. 
For seven days they marched resolutely forward along 
the banks of the Nile, admiring the fertility of the 
country, and despising the poverty and degradation of 
the inhabitants. They declared that there was no such 
place as Cairo, but that the "Little Corporal" had suf- 
fered himself to be transported, like a good hoy, to that 
miserable land, in search of a city even more unsub- 
stantial than the mirage of the desert. 

On the march, Napoleon stopped at the house of an 
Arab sheik. The interior presented a revolting scene of 
squalidness and misery. The proprietor was, however, 
reported to be rich. Napoleon treated the old man with 
great kindness, and asked, through an interpreter, why 
he lived in such utter destitution of all the comforts 
of life, assuring him that an unreserved answer should 
expose him to no inconvenience. He replied: "Some 
years ago I repaired and furnished my dwelling. Infor- 
mation of this was carried to Cairo, and having been 
thus proved to be wealthy, a large sum of money was 

245 



THE BOYS' BOOK OF BATTLES 

demanded from me by the Mamelukes, and the basti- 
nado was inflicted until I paid it. Look at my feet, which 
bear witness to what I endured. From that time I have 
reduced myself to the barest necessaries, and no longer 
seek to repair anything." The poor old man was lamed 
for life, in consequence of the mutilation which his feet 
received from the terrible infliction. Such was the tyr- 
anny of the Mamelukes. The Egyptians, in abject 
slavery to their proud oppressors, were compelled to 
surrender their wives, their children, and even their own 
persons, to the absolute will of the despots who ruled 
them. 

Numerous bands of Mameluke horsemen, the most 
formidable body of cavalry in the world, were continu- 
ally hovering about the army, watching for points of 
exposure, and it was necessary to be constantly pre- 
pared for an attack. Nothing could have been more 
effective than the disposition which Napoleon made 
of his troops to meet this novel mode of warfare. He 
formed his army into five squares. The sides of each 
were composed of ranks six men deep. The artillery 
were placed at the angles. Within the squares were 
grenadier companies in platoons to support the points 
of attack. The generals, the scientific corps, and the 
baggage were in the center. These squares were moving 
masses. When on the march, all faced in one direction, 
the two sides marching in flank. When charged, they 
immediately halted and fronted on every side — the 
outermost rank kneeling that those behind might shoot 
over their heads; the whole body thus presenting a liv- 
ing fortress of bristling bayonets. 

When they were to carry a position, the three front 

246 



THE BATTLE OF THE PYRAMIDS 

ranks were to detach themselves from the square, and 
to form a column of attack. The other three ranks were 
to remain in the rear, still forming the square, ready 
to rally the column. These flaming citadels of fire set 
at defiance all the power of the Arab horsemen. The 
attacks of the enemy soon became a subject of merri- 
ment to the soldiers. The scientific men, or savans, as 
they were called, had been supplied with asses to trans- 
port their persons and philosophical apparatus. As 
soon as the body of Mamelukes was seen in the distance, 
the order was given, with military precision, "Form 
square, savans and asses in the center J' This order was 
echoed from rank to rank with peals of laughter. The 
soldiers amused themselves with calling the asses demi- 
savans. Though the soldiers thus enjoyed their jokes, 
they cherished the highest respect for many of these 
savans, who in scenes of battle had manifested the ut- 
most intrepidity. After a march of seven days, during 
which time they had many bloody skirmishes with the 
enemy, the army approached Cairo. 

Mourad Bey had there assembled the greater part of 
his Mamelukes, nearly ten thousand in number, for a 
decisive battle. These proud and powerful horsemen 
were supported by twenty-four thousand foot-soldiers, 
strongly intrenched. Cairo is on the eastern bank of the 
Nile. Napoleon was marching along the western shore. 
On the morning of the 21st of July, Napoleon, conscious 
that he was near the city, set his army in motion before 
the break of day. Just as the sun was rising in those 
cloudless skies, the soldiers beheld the lofty minarets 
of the city upon their left gilded by its rays, and upon 
the right, upon the borders of the desert, the gigantic 

247 



THE BOYS' BOOK OF BATTLES 

pyramids rising like mountains upon an apparently 
boundless plain. 

The whole army instinctively halted, and gazed, awe- 
stricken, upon those monuments of antiquity. The 
face of Napoleon beamed with enthusiasm. "Sol- 
diers!" he exclaimed, as he rode along the ranks, "from 
those summits forty centuries contemplate your ac- 
tions." The ardor of the soldiers was aroused to the 
highest pitch. Animated by the clangor of martial 
bands and the gleam of flaunting banners, they ad- 
vanced with impetuous steps to meet their foes. The 
whole plain before them, at the base of the pyramids, 
was filled with armed men. The glittering weapons of 
ten thousand horsemen, in the utmost splendor of bar- 
baric chivalry, brilliant with plumes and arms of bur- 
nished steel and gold, presented an array inconceivably 
imposing. Undismayed, the French troops, marshaled 
in five invincible squares, pressed on. There was no 
other alternative. Napoleon must march upon those 
intrenchments, behind which twenty-four thousand 
men were stationed with powerful artillery and mus- 
ketry to sweep his ranks, and a formidable body of ten 
thousand horsemen, on fleet and powerful Arabian 
steeds, awaiting the onset, and ready to seize upon the 
slightest indication of confusion to plunge, with the 
fury which fatalism can inspire, upon his bleeding and 
mangled squares. 

It must have been with Napoleon a moment of in- 
tense anxiety. But as he sat upon his horse, in the 
center of one of the squares, and carefully examined 
with his telescope the disposition of the enemy, no one 
could discern the least trace of uneasiness. His gaze 

248 



THE BATTLE OF THE PYRAMIDS 

was long and intense. The keenness of his scrutiny de- 
tected that the enemy's guns were not mounted upon 
carriages, and that they could not, therefore, be turned 
from the direction in which they were placed. No 
other officer, though many of them had equally good 
glasses, made this important discovery. He imme- 
diately, by a lateral movement, guided his army to the 
right, toward the pyramids, that his squares might be 
out of the range of the guns, and that he might attack 
the enemy in flank. The moment Mourad Bey per- 
ceived this evolution, he divined its object, and, with 
great military sagacity, resolved instantly to charge. 

"You shall see us," said the proud Bey, "cut up those 
dogs like gourds!" 

It was, indeed, a fearful spectacle. Ten thousand 
horsemen, magnificently dressed, with the fleetest steeds 
in the world, urging their horses with bloody spurs 
to the most impetuous and furious onset, rending the 
heavens with their cries, and causing the very earth to 
tremble beneath the thunder of iron feet, came down 
upon the adamantine host. Nothing was ever seen in 
war more furious than this charge. Ten thousand horse- 
men form an enormous mass. Those longest inured to 
danger felt that it was an awful moment. It seemed 
impossible to resist such a Uving avalanche. The most 
profound silence reigned through the ranks, interrupted 
only by the word of command. The nerves of excite- 
ment being roused to the utmost tension, every order 
was executed with most marvelous rapidity and preci- 
sion. The soldiers held their breath, and with bristling 
bayonets stood shoulder to shoulder to receive the 
shock. 

249 



THE BOYS' BOOK OF BATTLES 

The moment the Mamelukes arrived within gunshot, 
the artillery at the angles ploughed their ranks, and pla- 
toons of musketry, volley after volley, in uninterrupted 
discharge, swept into their faces a pitiless tempest of 
destruction. Horses and riders, struck by the balls, 
rolled over each other by hundreds on the sand. They 
were trampled and crushed by the iron hoofs of the 
thousands of frantic steeds, enveloped in dust and 
smoke, composing the vast and impetuous squadrons. 
But the squares stood as firm as the pyramids at whose 
base they fought. Not one was broken; and not one 
wavered. The daring Mamelukes, in the frenzy of their 
rage and disappointment, threw away their Uves with 
the utmost recklessness. They wheeled their horses 
round, and reined them back upon the ranks, that they 
might kick their way into those terrible fortresses of 
living men. Rendered furious by their inability to break 
the ranks, they hurled their pistols and carbines at the 
heads of the French. The wounded crawled along the 
ground, and with their scimitars cut at the legs of their 
indomitable foes. They displayed superhuman brav- 
ery, the only virtue which the Mamelukes possessed. 

But an incessant and merciless fire from Napoleon's 
well-trained battaKons continually thinned their ranks, 
and at last the Mamelukes, in the wildest disorder, 
broke and fled. The infantry in the intrenched camp, 
witnessing the utter discomfiture of the mounted troops, 
whom they had considered invincible, and seeing such 
incessant and volcanic sheets of flame bursting from 
the impenetrable squares, caught the panic, and joined 
the flight. Napoleon now, in his turn, charged with the 
utmost impetuosity. A scene of indescribable confusion 

250 



THE BATTLE OF THE PYRAMIDS 

and horror ensued. The extended plain was crowded 
with fugitives — footmen and horsemen, bewildered 
with terror, seeking escape from their terrible foes. 
Thousands plunged into the river, and endeavored to 
escape by swimming to the opposite shore. But a 
shower of bullets, hke hailstones, fell upon them, and 
the waves of the Nile were crimsoned with their blood. 
Others sought the desert, a wild and rabble rout. 

The victors, with their accustomed celerity, pur- 
sued, pitilessly pouring into the dense masses of their 
flying foes the most terrible discharges of artillery and 
musketry. The rout was complete, the carnage awful. 
The sun had hardly reached the meridian before the 
whole embattled host had disappeared, and the plain, 
as far as the eye could extend, was strewn with the 
dying and the dead. The camp, with all its Oriental 
wealth, fell into the hands of the victors, and the sol- 
diers enriched themselves with its profusion of splendid 
shawls, magnificent weapons, Arabian horses, and purses 
filled with gold. The Mamelukes were accustomed to 
lavish great wealth in the decoration of their persons, 
and to carry with them large sums of money. The gold 
and the trappings found upon the body of each Mame- 
luke were worth from twelve hundred to two thousand 
dollars. Besides those who were slain upon the field, 
more than a thousand of these formidable horsemen 
were drowned in the Nile. For many days the soldiers 
employed themselves in fishing up the rich booty, and 
the French camp was filled with all abundance. This 
most sanguinary battle cost the French scarcely one 
hundred men in killed and wounded. More than ten 
thousand of the enemy perished. Napoleon gazed with 

251 



THE BOYS' BOOK OF BATTLES 

admiration upon the bravery which these proud horse- 
men displayed. "Could I have united the Mameluke 
horse to the French infantry," said he, "I should have 
reckoned myself master of the world." 

After the battle, Napoleon, now the undisputed con- 
queror of Egypt, quartered himself for the night in the 
country palace of Mourad Bey. The apartments of this 
voluptuous abode were embellished with all the appur- 
tenances of Oriental luxury. The oflQcers were struck 
with surprise in viewing the multitude of cushions and 
divans covered with the finest damasks and silks, and 
ornamented with golden fringe. Egypt was beggared to 
minister to the sensual indulgence of these haughty 
despots. Much of the night was passed in exploring 
this singular mansion. The garden was extensive and 
exceedingly magnificent. Innumerable vines were laden 
with the richest grapes. The vintage was soon gathered 
by the thousands of soldiers who filled the alleys and 
loitered in the arbors. Pots of preserves, of confection- 
ery, and of sweetmeats of every kind, were quickly 
devoured by an army of mouths. The thousands of 
little elegancies which Europe, Asia, and Africa had 
contributed to minister to the voluptuous splendors of 
the regal mansion were speedily transferred to the knap- 
sacks of the soldiers. 

The ''Battle of the Pyramids," as Napoleon charac- 
teristically designated it, sent a thrill of terror far and 
wide into the interior of Asia and Africa. These proud, 
merciless, Hcentious oppressors were execrated by the 
timid Egyptians, but they were deemed invincible. In 
an hour they had vanished like the mist before the 
genius of Napoleon. 

252 



THE BATTLE OF THE PYRAMIDS 

The caravans which came to Cairo circulated through 
the vast regions of the interior, with all the embellish- 
ments of Oriental exaggeration, glowing accounts of the 
destruction of those terrible squadrons which had so 
long tyrannized over Egypt, and the fame of whose 
military prowess had caused the most distant tribes to 
tremble. The name of Napoleon became suddenly as 
renowned in Asia and Africa as it had previously be- 
come in Europe. But twenty-one days had elapsed since 
he placed his foot upon the sands at Alexandria, and 
now he was sovereign of Egypt. 



HOHENLINDEN 

[1800] 

BY THOMAS CAMPBELL 

[After the execution of King Louis XVI of France, coalitions 
were formed by other nations of Europe in the determination 
to restore the monarchy and repress the plans of Napoleon. 
During what was known as the Second Coalition, the Aus- 
trians were defeated at Marengo by Napoleon, then at Ho- 
henlinden by Moreau. This brought about a treaty of peace 
with Austria and Germany in 1801. 

The Editor.] 

On Linden when the sun was low, 
All bloodless lay the untrodden snow, 
And dark as winter was the flow 
Of Iser, rolling rapidly. 

But Linden saw another sight 
When the drum beat, at dead of night, 
Commanding fires of death to light 
The darkness of her scenery. 

By torch and trumpet fast arrayed, 
Each horseman drew his battle blade, 
And furious each charger neighed, 
To join the dreadful revelry. 

Then shook the hills with thunder riven, 
Then rushed the steed to battle driven, 
And louder than the bolts of heaven 
Far flashed the red artillery. 

254 



HOHENLINDEN 

But redder yet that light shall glow 
On Linden's hills of stained snow, 
And bloodier yet the torrent flow 
Of Iser, rolling rapidly. 

'T is morn, but scarce yon lurid sun 
Can pierce the war-clouds, rolling dun, 
Where furious Frank and fiery Hun 
Shout in their sulphurous canopy. 

The combat deepens. On, ye brave, 
Who rush to glory, or the grave! 
Wave, Munich, all thy banners wave! 
And charge with all thy chivalry! 

Ah! few shall part where many meet! 
The snow shall be their winding-sheet, 
And every turf beneath their feet 
Shall be a soldier's sepulcher. 



TRAFALGAR 

[1805] 

BY WILLIAM C. BENNETT 

Northwest the wind was blowing 

Our good ships running free; 
Seven leagues lay Cape Trafalgar 

Away upon our lee; 
'T was then, as broke the morning, 

The Frenchman we descried, 
East away, there they lay, 

That day that Nelson died. 

That was a sight to see, boys, 

On which that morning shone; 
We counted three-and-thirty, 

Mounseer and stately Don; 
And plain their great three-deckers 

Amongst them we descried, — 
"Safe," we said, "for Spithead," 

That day that Nelson died. 

Then Nelson spoke to Hardy, 

Upon his face the smile, 
The very look he wore when 
We beat them at the Nile! 
"We must have twenty, Hardy," 
'T was thus the hero cried; 
And we had twenty, lads. 
That day that Nelson died. 
256 



TRAFALGAR 

Up went his latest signal ; 

Ah, well, my boys, he knew 
That not a man among us 

But would his duty do ! 
And as the signal flew, boys, 

With shouts each crew replied; 
How we cheered as we neared 

The foe, when Nelson died! 

We led the weather column, 

But Collingwood, ahead, 
A mile from all, the lee line 

Right through the Frenchman led; 
"And what would Nelson give to 

Be here with us!" he cried, 
As he bore through their roar 

That day that Nelson died. 

Well, on the Victory stood, boys, 

With every sail full spread; 
And as we neared them slowly 

There was but little said. 
There were thoughts of home amongst us, 

And as their line we eyed, 
Here and there, perhaps, a prayer, 

That day that Nelson died. 

A gun, — the Bucentaure first 

Began with us the game; 
Another, — then their broadsides 

From all sides through us came; 

257 



THE BOYS' BOOK OF BATTLES 

With men fast falling round us, 

While not a gun replied, 
With sails rent, on we went, 

That day that Nelson died. 

"Steer for their admiral's flag, boys!" 

But where it flew none knew; 
"Then make for that four-decker," 
Said Nelson, " men, she '11 do! " 
So, at their Trinidada, 

To get we straightway tried. 
As we broke through their smoke, 
That day that Nelson died. 

'T was where they clustered thickest 

That through their line we broke, 
And to their Bucentaure first 

Our thundering broadside spoke, 
We shaved her; — as our shots, boys. 

Crashed through her shattered side, 
She could feel how to keel, 

That day that Nelson died. 

Into the Don's four-decker 

Our larboard broadsides pour, 
Though all we well could spare her 

Went to the Bucentaure. 
Locked to another Frenchman, 

Our starboard fire we plied, 
Gun to gun, till we won, 

That day that Nelson died. 

258 



TRAFALGAR 



TRAFALGAR 

"They've done for me at last, friend!" 

'T was thus they heard him say, 
"But I die as I would die, boys, 
Upon this glorious day; 
I've done my duty, Hardy," 

He cried, and still he cried, — 
As below, sad and slow, 
We bore him as he died. 

On wounded and on dying 

The cockpit's lamp shone dim; 
But many a groan we heard, lads, 

Less for themselves than him. 
And many a one among them 

Had given, and scarcely sighed, 
A limb to save him 

Who there in glory died. 

As slowly life ebbed from him 

His thoughts were still the same: 
"How many have we now, boys?" 

Still faint and fainter came. 
As ship on ship struck to us 

His glazing eyes with pride. 
As it seemed, flashed and gleamed. 

As he knew he conquering died. 

We beat them — how, you know, boys, 

Yet many an eye was dim; 
And when we talked of triumph, 

We only thought of him. 

259 



THE BOYS' BOOK OF BATTLES 

And still, though fifty years, boys, 
Have gone, who, without pride, 

Names his name, — tells his fame, 
Who at Trafalgar died! 



THE CROSSING OF THE BERESINA RIVER 

[1812I 

BY JOHN S. C. ABBOTT 

The river Beresina flows rapidly along its channel a few 
miles beyond Borisoflf. The retreating Russians had 
destroyed the bridge. Upon the opposite bank of the 
river they had planted very formidable batteries. 
Napoleon remained two days at Borisoff refreshing his 
troops. On the 25th, a variety of movements were made 
to deceive the enemy as to the point at which he intended 
to cross the river. In the mean time, with secrecy, 
arrangements were made for constructing a bridge where 
a dense forest would conceal their operations from view. 
The Russians, in vast numbers, occupied the adjacent 
heights. The French troops were secreted all day in the 
woods, ready to commence the construction of the bridge 
the moment night should come. Hardly had the winter's 
sun gone down behind the frozen hills ere they sprang 
to their work. No fire could be allowed. They worked 
through the long and dark night, many of them often 
up to their necks in water, and struggling against im- 
mense masses of ice, which were floated down by the 
stream. The tires of the wheels were wrenched off for 
cramp-irons, and cottages were torn down for timber. 

Napoleon superintended the work in person, toiling 
with the rest. He uttered not a word which could indi- 
cate any want of confidence in this desperate adventure. 
He was surrounded by three armies, constituting a mass 

261 



THE BOYS' BOOK OF BATTLES 

of one hundred and fifty thousand men. " In this situa- 
tion," says the Russian historian Boutourlin, "the most 
perilous in which he had ever found himself, the great 
captain was in no way inferior to himself. Without 
allowing himself to be dismayed by the imminence of his 
danger, he dared to measure it with the eye of genius, 
and still found resources when a general less skillful and 
less determined would not even have suspected its pos- 
sibility." 

The French generals deemed the passage of the river 
utterly impracticable. Rapp, Mortier, and Ney de- 
clared that, if escape were now effected, they should for- 
ever after believe in the emperor's protecting star. Even 
Murat, constitutionally bold and reckless as he was, 
declared that it was time to relinquish all thoughts of 
rescuing any but the emperor, on whose fate the salva- 
tion of France depended. The soldiers in the ranks ex- 
pressed similar fears and desires. Some Polish officers 
volunteered to extricate Napoleon by guiding him 
through obscure paths in the forest to the frontiers of 
Prussia. Poniatowski, who commanded the Polish divi- 
sion, offered to pledge his life for the success of the enter- 
prise; but Napoleon promptly rejected the suggestion as 
implying a cowardly and dishonorable flight. He would 
not forsake the army in this hour of its greatest peril. 

"Napoleon," says Segur, "at once rejected this proj- 
ect as infamous, as being a cowardly flight; he was indig- 
nant that any one should dare to think for a moment 
that he would abandon his army so long as it was in 
danger. He was, however, not at all displeased with 
Murat, either because that prince, in making the propo- 
sition, had afforded him an opportunity of showing his 

262 



THE CROSSING OF THE BERESINA RIVER 

firmness, or, what is more probable, because he saw in it 
nothing but a mark of devotion, and because in the eyes 
of a sovereign, the first quality is attachment to his 
person." 

At last the day faintly dawned in the east. The Rus- 
sian watch-fires began to pale. Napoleon, by the move- 
ments of the preceding day, had effectually deceived his 
foes. The bewildered Russian admiral consequently 
commenced withdrawing his forces from Studzianca just 
as Napoleon commenced concentrating his army there. 
The French generals, who were anxiously, with their 
glasses, peering through the dusk of the morning to the 
opposite heights, could hardly believe their eyes when 
they saw the Russians rapidly retreating. The Russians 
had received orders to hasten to a point some eighteen 
miles down the river, where the admiral was convinced,, 
by the false demonstrations of Napoleon, that the 
French intended to attempt the passage. 

Oudinot and Rapp hastened to the emperor with the 
joyful tidings. Napoleon exclaimed, "Then I have out- 
witted the admiral I" A squadron of horsemen swam, 
on their skeleton steeds, through the icy waves, and took 
possession of the opposite bank. The bridge was soon 
finished, and two Hght rafts were constructed. The pas- 
sage of the troops was now urged with the utmost rapid- 
ity. In the course of a few hours the engineers succeeded 
in constructing another bridge for the transportation of 
the baggage and the cannon. During the whole of that 
bleak winter's day, and of the succeeding night, the 
French army, with its encumbering multitude of strag- 
glers, were crowding across these narrow defiles. In the 
mean time the Russians began to return. They planted 

» 263 



THE BOYS' BOOK OF BATTLES 

their batteries upon the adjacent heights, and swept the 
bridge with a storm of cannon balls. Eariy in the morn- 
ing of the 27th, the foe had accumulated in such num- 
bers as to be prepared to make a simultaneous attack 
upon the French on both sides of the river. Napoleon 
had crossed with the advanced guard. On attaining the 
right bank of the river, he exclaimed, "My star still 
reigns!" 

An awful conflict now ensued. The Russians were 
impelled by the conj&dence of success; the French were 
nerved by the energies of despair. In the midst of this 
demoniac scene of horror, mutilation, and blood, a fear- 
ful tempest arose, howling through the dark forests, and 
sweeping with hurricane fury over the embattling hosts. 
One of the frail bridges broke beneath the weight of ar- 
tillery, baggage, and troops with which it was burdened. 
A vast and frenzied crowd were struggling at the heads 
of the bridges. Cannon balls ploughed through the liv- 
ing, tortured mass. They trampled upon each other. 
Multitudes were crowded into the stream, and with 
shrieks which pierced through the thunders of the battle, 
sank beneath the floating ice. The genius of Napoleon 
was never more conspicuous than on this occasion. It is 
the testimony alike of friend and foe, that no other man 
could have accomplished what he accomplished in the 
awful passage of the Beresina. 

Undismayed by the terrific scene and by the magnitude 
■of his peril, he calmly studied all his chances, and, with 
his feeble band, completely thwarted and overthrew his 
multitudinous foes. It is difficult to ascertain the precise 
numbers in this engagement. According to Segur, who 
is perhaps the best authority to whom we can refer, 

264 



PASSAGE OF THE BERESINA 



THE CROSSING OF THE BERESINA RIVER 

Napoleon had but twenty-seven thousand fighting men, 
and these were exhausted, half famished, and miserably 
clothed and armed. There were also forty thousand 
stragglers and wounded embarrassing his movements 
and claiming his care. Sixty thousand Russians, well 
fed and perfectly armed, surrounded him. General 
Wittgenstein, with forty thousand effective men, 
marched upon the portion of the army which had not 
yet crossed the stream. Marshal Victor, with but six 
thousand men, baffled all his efforts, and for hours held 
this vast force at bay. Admiral Tchitchagoff, with 
twenty thousand men, attacked the columns which had 
crossed. Ney, with eight thousand troops, plunged into 
the dense mass of foes, drove them before him, and took 
six thousand prisoners. 

Through all these awful hours the engineers worked in 
preserving and repairing the bridges, with coolness which 
no perils could disturb. The darkness of the night put 
no end to the conflict. The Russians trained their guns 
to bear upon the confused mass of men, horses, and 
wagons crowding and overwhelming the bridges. 

In the midst of all the horrors of the scene, a little 
boat, carrying a mother and her two children, was over- 
turned by the floating ice. A soldier plunged from the 
bridge into the river, and, by great exertions, saved the 
youngest of the two children. The poor little thing, in 
tones of despair, kept crying for its mother. The tender- 
hearted soldier was heard endeavoring to soothe it, say- 
ing, "Do not cry. I will not abandon you. You shall 
want for nothing. I will be your father." 

Women were in the midst of the stream, struggling 
against the floating ice, with their children in their 

265 



THE BOYS' BOOK OF BATTLES 

arms; and when the mother was completely submerged 
in the cold flood, her stiffened arms were seen still hold- 
ing her child above the waves. Across this bridge the 
soldiers bore tenderly the orphan child which Marshal 
Ney had saved at Smolensk. 

Many persons were crushed and ground to pieces by 
the rush of heavy carriages. Bands of soldiers cleared 
their way across the bridge, through the encumbering 
crowd, with their bayonets and their swords. The 
wounded and the dead were trampled miserably under 
their feet. Night came, cold, dark, and dreary, and did 
but increase these awful calamities. Everything was 
covered with snow. The black mass of men, horses, and 
carriages, traversing this white surface, enabled the Rus- 
sian artillerymen, from the heights which they occupied, 
unerringly to direct their fire. The howling of the tem- 
pest, the gloom of midnight, the incessant flash and roar 
of artillery, the sweep of cannon balls through the dense 
mass, and the frightful explosion of shells, the whistling 
of bullets, the vociferations and shouts of the soldiers, 
the shrieks of the wounded and despairing, and the wild 
hurrahs of the Cossacks, presented one of the most appall- 
ing scenes which demoniac war has ever exhibited. The 
record alone one would think enough to appall the most 
selfish and merciless lover of military glory. At last 
Victor, having protected the passage of all the regular 
troops, led his vahant corps across, and set fire to the 
bridges. The number lost on this occasion has never 
been ascertained. When the ice melted in the spring, 
twelve thousand dead bodies were dragged from the 
river. 



WATERLOO 

[1815] 

BY DOUGLAS BROOKE WHEELTON SLADEN 

["The battle of Waterloo was fought on a glorious day in 
June; a Sabbath day, clear and warm after the heavy rain 
of the night, which had entirely ceased ere the roar of battle 
began. At home, mothers and sisters and sweethearts were 
praying for the safety of those dear to them who were about 
to engage in deadly combat. It was while these loved ones 
were engaged in their devotions at church that the battle 
commenced, and from many a maiden's heart, in Kent and 
elsewhere, went out a fervent petition asking divine protec- 
tion for the one dearer to her than life; and many a noble 
boy fought better and died more heroically that awful day, 
knowing that such a woman was praying for him."] 

"What struck?" 

''Half-past ten o'clock." 
As over his saddle-bow he bent, 
He thought of the village church in Kent, 
And said, "She'll be kneeling soon to pray — 
Perhaps for me, on this Sabbath day." 

Ping! ping! 

Hark the bullets wing! 
Their cuirassiers sweep across the plain. 
"Charge them, our Life Guards!" — They turn again; 
While English beauty is on its knees 
For English valor across the seas. 

267 



THE BOYS' BOOK OF BATTLES 

There goes 

The Vanguard of the foes! 
They've taken the wood by Hougoumont! 
" Coldstreams and Fusiliers to the front!" 
Taken again, lads! that's not amiss; 
Your sweethearts at home will boast of this. 

Pell-mell, 

Bullet, shot, and shell 

Rained on our infantry thick and fast; 

Many a stout heart will beat its last; 

Blue eyes will moisten many a day 

For good lives lightly given away. 

Crash, clash, 

Like a torrent's dash, 

Lancer and cuirassier leap on the square! 

Scarcely a third of the bayonets there. 

Ye who would look on old England again. 

Now must ye prove yourselves Englishmen. 

Stamp, stamp, 

With its even tramp, 

Rolls uphill the invincible Guard: 

Falters it at the fiftieth yard ? 

Weak, worn, and oft assaulted the foe, 

Yet never its heart misgave it so. 

On, on. 

And the fight is won! 

Shot-stricken hnesman and thrice-charged Guard 

Glare at them lion-like, hungry and hard; 

268 



WATERLOO 

His waiting is done — his hour has come; 
Pent-up fierceness drives bayonets home. 

On, on, 

Life Guard and Dragoon! 

An English charge and a red right hand 

Will bring fair years to your fair old land. 

With riven corselet and shivered lance, 

Is reft and shivered the pride of France. 

Still, still, 

In the moonlight chill, 
A dying Dragoon looks up to a friend: 
'Tell her I did my part to the end — 
Tell her I died as an Enghshman should — • 
And give her — her handkerchief — it is my blood." 

There went. 

From a church in Kent, 

An eager and anxious prayer to God 

For lovers, brothers, and sons abroad : 

The fairest and noblest prayed for one — 

Neither lover, nor brother, nor son. 

A calm 

After hymn and psalm: 

The preacher in silent thought is bowed, 

Ere he gives out the bidding prayer aloud. 

Hark! what can that long, dull booming be, 

Swept by the east wind across the sea? 

Boom, boom. 

Like the voice of doom! 

269 



THE BOYS' BOOK OF BATTLES 

The preacher has fought, and knows full well 
The message that booming has to tell, 
And gives out his text: "Let God arise, 
And he shall scatter our enemies." 

One night 

In two memories bright; 
One golden hour unwatched at a ball, 
A kerchief taken or given was all. 
"Off to the war to-morrow — good-bye — 
I'll carry it with me until I die!" 

He is dead! 
"You have come," she said, 
"To bring me tidings of him I loved? 

Your face has told me your tale — he proved 

Worthy the name I did not know, 

The man that I thought him a year ago." 

"He died 
With stern English pride. 
But lived to fight the great battle through; 
His last words were of England and you; 
He died as an English gentleman should, 
And sent you — your handkerchief — rich with his 
blood." 

"Ah me! 

Life is sad," moaned she, 
"When all the sun in its sky hath flown!" 

And "One loving bosom is very lone." 

And "Oh, if I might lie by you 

In your soldier's grave at Waterloo!" 

270 



"SCOTLAND FOREVER!" 
THE CHARGE OF THE SCOTS GREYS AT WATERLOO 



WATERLOO 

[1815] 

BY VICTOR ETUGO 
THE EMPEROR PUTS A QUESTION TO THE GUIDE LACOSTE 

At the moment when Wellington drew back, Napoleon 
started up. He saw the plateau of Mont St. -Jean sud- 
denly laid bare and the front of the English army disap- 
pear. It rallied, but kept concealed. The Emperor half 
rose in his stirrups. The flash of a victory passed into 
his eyes. 

Wellington hurled back on the Forest of Soignes and 
destroyed; that was the final overthrow of England by 
France; it was Cressy, Poitiers, Malplaquet, and Ra- 
millies avenged. The man of Marengo was wiping out 
Agincourt. 

The Emperor, then, contemplating this terrible turn 
of fortune, swept his glass for the last time over every 
point of the battle-field. His Guard, standing behind, 
with grounded arms, looked up to him with a sort of re- 
ligion. He was reflecting; he was examining the slopes, 
noting the ascents, scrutinizing the tufts of the trees, 
the square rye field, the footpath; he seemed to count 
every bush. He looked for some time at the English 
barricades on the two roads, two large abattis of trees, 
that on the Genappe road above La Haye Sainte, armed 
with two cannon, which alone, of all the English artil- 
lery, bore upon the bottom of the field of battle, and 
that of the Nivelles road, where glistened the Dutch 

271 



THE BOYS' BOOK OF BATTLES 

bayonets of Chasse's brigade. He noticed near that bar- 
ricade the old chapel of St. Nicholas, painted white, 
which is at the corner of the cross-road toward Braine 
I'AUeud. He bent over and spoke in an undertone to the 
guide Lacoste. The guide made a negative sign of the 
head, probably treacherous. 

The Emperor rose up and reflected. Wellington had 
fallen back. It remained only to complete this repulse 
by a crushing charge. 

Napoleon, turning abruptly, sent off a courier at 
full speed to Paris to announce that the battle was 
won. 

Napoleon was one of those geniuses who rule the 
thunder. 

He had found his thunderbolt. 

He ordered Milhaud's cuirassiers to carry the plateau 
of Mont St.-Jean. 

THE UNLOOKED-FOR 

They were 3500. They formed a line of half a mile. 
They were gigantic men on colossal horses. There were 
twenty-six squadrons, and they had behind them, as a 
support, the division of Lefebvre-Desnouettes, the 106 
gensdarmes d'elite, the chasseurs of the guard, 1 197 men, 
and the lancers of the guard, 880 lances. They wore 
casques without plumes, and cuirasses of wrought iron, 
with horse pistols in their holsters and long saber-swords. 
In the morning they had been the admiration of the 
whole army, when, at 9 o'clock, with trumpets sounding, 
and all the bands playing " Veillons ausalutdel'empire," 
they came, in heavy columns, one of their batteries on 
their flank, the other at their center, and deployed in 

272 



WATERLOO 

two ranks between the Genappe road and Frischemont, 
and took their position of battle in this powerful sec- 
ond line, so wisely made up by Napoleon, which, having 
at its extreme left the cuirassiers of Kellermann and at 
its extreme right the cuirassiers of Milhaud, had, so to 
speak, two wings of iron. 

Aide-de-camp Bernard brought them the Emperor's 
order. Ney drew his sword and placed himself at their 
head. The enormous squadrons began to move. 

Then was seen a fearful sight. 

All this cavalry, with sabers drawn, banners waving, 
and trumpets sounding, formed in column by divisions, 
descended with an even movement and as one man — 
with the precision of a bronze battering-ram opening a 
breach — the hill of La Belle-Alliance, sank into the for- 
midable depths where so many men had already fallen, 
disappeared in the smoke, then rising from this valley 
of shadow reappeared on the other side, still compact 
and serried, mounting at full trot, through a cloud of 
grape emptying itself upon them, the frightful acclivity 
of mud of the plateau of Mont St.-Jean. They rose, se- 
rious and menacing, imperturbable; in the intervals of 
the musketry and artillery could be heard the sound of 
this colossal tramp. Being in two divisions, they formed 
two columns; Wathier's division had the right, Delord's 
the left. From a distance they would be taken for two 
immense serpents of steel stretching themselves to- 
ward the crest of the plateau. That ran through the 
battle Hke a prodigy. 

Nothing like it had been seen since the taking of the 
grand redoubt at La Moscowa, by the heavy cavalry; 
Murat was not there, but Ney was there. It seemed as 

273 



THE BOYS' BOOK OF BATTLES 

if this mass had become a monster, and had but a single 
mind. Each squadron undulated and swelled like the 
ring of a polyp. They could be seen through the thick 
smoke as it was broken here and there. It was one pell- 
mell of casques, cries, sabers, a furious bounding of 
horses among the cannon, and the flourish of trumpets, 
a terrible and disciplined tumult; over all the cuirasses, 
like the scales of a hydra. 

These recitals appear to belong to another age. Some- 
thing like this vision appeared, doubtless, in the old 
Orphic epics which tell of centaurs, antique happan- 
thropes, those titans with human faces, and chests like 
horses, whose gallop scaled Olympus, horrible, invulner- 
able, sublime; at once gods and beasts. 

An odd numerical coincidence, twenty-six battalions, 
were to receive these twenty-six squadrons. Behind the. 
crest of the plateau, under cover of the masked battery, 
the English infantry formed in thirteen squares, two 
battalions to the square and upon two lines — seven on 
the first and six on the second — with musket to the 
shoulder, and eye upon their sights, waiting calm, silent, 
and immovable. They could not see the cuirassiers, 
and the cuirassiers could not see them. They listened to 
the rising of this tide of men. They heard the increasing 
sound of three thousand horses, the alternate and meas- 
ured striking of their hoofs at full trot, the rattling of the 
cuirasses, the clicking of sabers, and a sort of fierce roar 
of the coming host. There was a moment of fearful si- 
lence; then, suddenly a long line of raised arms bran- 
dishing sabers appeared above the crest, with casques, 
trumpets, and standards, and three thousand faces with 
gray mustaches^ crying, ^'Vive VEmpereurl'' All this 

274 



WATERLOO 

cavalry debouched on the plateau, and it was like the 
beginning of an earthquake. 

All at once, tragic to relate, at the left of the English, 
and on our right, the head of the column of cuirassiers 
reared with a frightful clamor. Arrived at the culmi- 
nating point of the crest, unmanageable, full of fury, 
and bent upon the extermination of the squares and 
cannons, the cuirassiers saw between themselves and 
the English a ditch, a grave. It was the sunken road of 
Ohain. 

It was a frightful moment. There was the ravine, un- 
looked for, yawning at the very feet of the horses, two 
fathoms deep between its double slope. The second 
rank pushed in the first, the third pushed in the second, 
the horses reared, threw themselves over, fell upon their 
backs and struggled with their feet in the air, piling 
up and overturning their riders, no power to retreat; the 
whole column was nothing but a projectile. The force 
acquired to crush the English crushed the French. The 
inexorable ravine could not yield until it was filled; 
riders and horses rolled in together pell-mell, grinding 
each other, making common flesh in this dreadful gulf, 
and when this grave was full of living men the rest 
marched over them and passed on. Almost a third of 
the Dubois' brigade sank into this abyss. 

Here the loss of the battle began. 

A local tradition, which evidently exaggerates, says 
that two thousand horses and fifteen hundred men 
were buried in the sunken road of Ohain. This un- 
doubtedly comprises all the other bodies thrown into 
this ravine on the morrow after the battle. 

Napoleon, before ordering this charge of Milhaud's 

275 



THE BOYS' BOOK OF BATTLES 

cuirassiers, had examined the ground, but could not see 
this hollow road, which did not make even a wrinkle on 
the surface of the plateau. Warned, however, and put 
on his guard by the little white chapel which marks its 
junction with the Nivelles road, he had, probably, on 
the contingency of an obstacle, put a question to the 
guide, Lacoste. The guide had answered no. It may 
almost be said that from this shake of a peasant's head 
came the catastrophe of Napoleon. 

Still other fatalities must arise. 

Was it possible that Napoleon should win this battle? 
We answer — no! Why? Because of Wellington? Be- 
cause of Bliicher? No! Because of God. 

For Bonaparte to be conqueror at Waterloo was not 
in the law of the nineteenth century. Another series of 
facts were preparing in which Napoleon had no place. 
The ill will of events had long been announced. 

It was time that this vast man should fall. 

The excessive weight of this man in human destiny 
disturbed the equilibrium. This individual counted of 
himself more than the universe besides. These pleth- 
oras of all human vitality concentrated in a single 
head, the world mounting to the brain of one man, 
would be fatal to civilization if they should endure. The 
moment had come for incorruptible supreme equity to 
look to it. Probably the principles and elements upon 
which regular gravitations in the moral order as well 
as in the material depend, began to murmur. Reeking 
blood, overcrowded cemeteries, weeping mothers, — 
these are formidable pleaders. When the earth is suffer- 
ing from a surcharge, there are mysterious meanings 
from the deeps which the heavens hear. 

276 



WATERLOO 

Napoleon had been impeached before the infinite and 
his fall was decreed. 

He vexed God. 

Waterloo is not a battle; it is the change of front of 
the universe. 

THE PLATEAU OF MONT ST.-JEAN 

At the same time with the ravine, the artillery was 
unmasked. 

Sixty cannon and thirteen squares thundered and 
flashed into the cuirassiers. The brave General Delord 
gave the military salute to the EngHsh battery. 

All the English flying artillery took position in the 
squares at a gallop. The cuirassiers had not even time 
to breathe. The disaster of the sunken road had deci- 
mated but not discouraged them. They were men 
who, diminished in number, grew greater in heart. 

Wathier's column alone had suffered from the disas- 
ter; Delord's which Ney had sent obliquely to the left, 
as if he had a presentiment of the snare, arrived entire. 

The cuirassiers hurled themselves upon the English 
squares. 

At full gallop, with free rein, their sabers in their 
teeth, and their pistols in their hands, the attack be- 
gan. 

There are moments in battle when the soul hardens 
a man even to changing the soldier into a statue, and all 
this flesh becomes granite. The English battalions, des- 
perately assailed, did not yield an inch. 

Then it was frightful. 

All sides of the English squares were attacked at once. 
A whirlwind of frenzy enveloped them. This frigid in- 

277 



THE BOY'S BOOK OF BATTLES 

fantry remained impassible. The first rank, with knee 
on the ground, received the cuirassiers on their bayonets, 
the second shot them down; behind the second rank, 
the cannoneers loaded their guns, the front of the square 
opened, made way for an eruption of grape, and closed 
again. The cuirassiers answered by rushing upon them 
with crushing force. Their great horses reared, tram- 
pled upon the ranks, leaped over the bayonets and fell, 
gigantic in the midst of these four Hving walls. The 
balls made gaps in the ranks of the cuirassiers, the cui- 
rassiers made breaches in the squares. Files of men dis- 
appeared, ground down beneath the horses' feet. Bay- 
onets were buried in the bellies of these centaurs. Hence 
a monstrosity of wounds never, perhaps, seen elsewhere. 
The squares, consumed by this furious cavalry, closed 
up, without wavering. Inexhaustible in grape, they 
kept up an explosion in the midst of their assailants. It 
was a monstrous sight. These squares were battalions 
no longer, they were craters; these cuirassiers were cav- 
alry no longer, the}'^ were a tempest. Each square was a 
volcano attacked by a thunder-cloud; the lava fought 
with the lightning. 

The square, on the extreme right, the most exposed of 
all, being in the open field, was almost annihilated at 
the first shock. It was formed of the 75th Regiment of 
Highlanders. The piper in the center, while the work of 
extermination was going on, profoundly oblivious of all 
about him, casting dov/n his melancholy eye full of the 
shadows of forests and lakes, seated upon a drum, his 
bagpipe under his arm, was playing his mountain airs. 
These Scotchmen died thinking of Ben Lothian, as the 
Greeks died remembering Argo. The saber of a cuiras- 

278 



WATERLOO 

sier, striking down the pibroch and the arm which bore 
it, caused the strain to cease by killing the player. 

The cuirassiers, relatively few in number, lessened 
by the catastrophe of the ravine, had to contend with 
almost the whole of the English army; but they multi- 
plied themselves ; each man became equal to ten. Never- 
theless, some Hanoverian battalions fell back. Welling- 
ton saw it and remembered his cavalry. Had Napoleon, 
at that very moment, remembered his infantry, he 
would have won the battle. This forgetfulness was his 
great, fatal blunder. 

Suddenly the assailing cuirassiers perceived that they 
were assailed. The English cavalry was upon their 
back. Before them, the squares, behind them Somerset; 
Somerset with the fourteen hundred dragoon guards. 
Somerset had on his right Dornberg, with his German 
light horse, and on his left Trip, with the Belgian carbi- 
neers. The cuirassiers, attacked front, flank, and rear, 
by infantry and cavalry, were compelled to face in all 
directions. What was that to them? They were a whirl- 
wind. Their valor became unspeakable. 

Besides, they had behind them the ever-thundering 
artillery. All that was necessary in order to wound such 
men in the back. One of their cuirasses, with a hole in 
the left shoulder blade, made by a musket ball, is in 
the collection of the Waterloo Museum. 

With such Frenchmen only such Englishmen could 
cope. 

It was no longer a conflict; it was a darkness, a fury, 
a giddy vortex of souls and courage, a hurricane of sword 
flashes. In an instant the fourteen hundred horse 
guards were but eight hundred. Fuller, their lieutenant- 

279 



THE BOYS' BOOK OF BATTLES 

colonel, fell dead. Ney rushed up with the lancers and 
chasseurs of Lefebvre-Desnouettes. The plateau of 
Mont St.-Jean was taken, retaken, and taken again. 
The cuirassiers left the cavalry to return to the infantry, 
or, more correctly, all this terrible multitude wrestled 
with each other without letting go their hold. The 
squares still held. There were twelve assaults. Ney had 
four horses killed under him. Half of the cuirassiers lay 
on the plateau. This struggle lasted two hours. 

The English army was terribly shaken. There is no 
doubt, if they had not been crippled in their first shock 
by the disaster of the sunken road, the cuirassiers would 
have overwhelmed the center and decided the victory. 
This wonderful cavalry astounded Clinton, who had 
seen Talavera and Badajos. Wellington, though three 
fourths conquered, was struck with heroic admiration. 
He said, in a low voice, " Splendid!" 

The cuirassiers annihilated seven squares out of thir- 
teen, took or spiked sixty pieces of cannon, and took 
from the English regiments six colors, which three cui- 
rassiers and three chasseurs of the guard carried to the 
Emperor before the farm of La Belle- Alliance. 

The situation of Wellington was growing worse. This 
strange battle was like a duel between two wounded 
infuriates, who, while yet fighting and resisting, lose all 
their blood. Which of the two shall fall first? 

The struggle of the plateau continued. 

How far did the cuirassiers penetrate? None can tell. 
One thing is certain: the day after the battle a cuirassier 
and his horse were found dead under the frame of the 
hay-scales at Mont St.-Jean, at the point where the four 
roads from Nivelles, Genappe, La Hulpe, and Brussels 

280 



WATERLOO 

meet. This horseman had pierced the English lines. 
One of the men who took away the body still Hves at 
Mont St.-Jean. His name is Dehaze; he was then eight- 
een years old. 

Wellington felt he was giving away. The crisis was 
upon him. The cuirassiers had not succeeded, in this 
sense, that the center was not broken. All holding the 
plateau, nobody held it; and, in fact, it remained for the 
most part with the EngHsh. Wellington held the village 
and the crowning plain. Ney held only the crest and the 
slope. On both sides they seemed rooted in this funeral 
soil. 

But the enfeeblement of the English appeared irre- 
mediable. The hemorrhage of this army was horrible. 
Kempt, on the left wing, called for reinforcements. 
"Impossible," answered Wellington, "we must die on 
the spot we now occupy." Almost at the same moment 
— singular coincidence, which depicts the exhaustion of 
both armies — Ney sent to Napoleon for infantry, and 
Napoleon exclaimed: "Infantry! where does he expect 
me to take them? Does he expect me to make them?" 

However, the English army was farthest gone. The 
furious onslaughts of these great squadrons, with iron 
cuirasses and steel breastplates had ground up the 
infantry. A few men about a flag marked the place of a 
regiment; battalions were now commanded by captains 
or Heutenants. Alten's division, already so cut up at La 
Haye Sainte, was almost destroyed; the intrepid Bel- 
gians of Van Kluze's brigade strewed the rye field along 
the Nivelles road; there were hardly any left of those 
Dutch grenadiers who, in 1811, joined to our ranks in 
Spain, fought against Wellington, and who, in 181 5, 

281 



THE BOYS' BOOK OF BATTLES 

rallied on the English side, fought against Napoleon. 
The loss of officers was heavy. Lord Uxbridge, who 
buried his leg next day, had a knee fractured. If, on 
the side of the French, in this struggle of the cuirassiers, 
Delord, I'Heriter, Colbert, Dnop, Travers, and Blan- 
card were hors de combat, on the side of the English 
Alten was wounded, Barne was wounded, Delancey was 
killed, Van Meeren was killed. Ompteda was killed, the 
entire staff of Wellington was decimated, and Eng- 
land had the worst share in this balance of blood. The 
2d Regiment of foot guards had lost five Heutenant- 
colonels, four captains and three ensigns; the first bat- 
talion of the 30th Infantry had lost twenty-four officers 
and one hundred and twelve soldiers; the 79th High- 
landers had twenty-four officers wounded, eighteen 
officers killed, and four hundred and fifty soldiers slain. 
Cumberland's Hanoverian hussars, an entire regiment, 
having at its head Colonel Hacke, who was afterward 
court-martialed and broken, had drawn rein before the 
fight, and were in ffight in the Forest of Soignes, spread- 
ing the panic as far as Brussels. Carts, ammunition- 
wagons, baggage-wagons, ambulances full of wounded, 
seeing the French gain ground and approach the forest, 
fled precipitately; the Dutch, sabered by the French 
cavalry cried "Murder!" From Vert Coucoa to Groe- 
nendael, for a distance of nearly six miles in the direction 
toward Brussels, the roads, according to the testimony 
of witnesses still aHve, were choked with fugitives. This 
panic was such that it reached the Prince of Conde at 
Malines, and Louis XVIII at Ghent. With the excep- 
tion of the small reserve drawn up in echelon behind 
the hospital established at the farm of Mont St.- Jean, 

282 



WATERLOO 

and the brigades of Vivian and Vandeleur on the flank 
of the left wing, Wellington's cavalry was exhausted. 
A number of batteries lay dismounted. These facts are 
confessed by Siborne; and Pringle, exaggerating the 
disaster, says even that the Anglo-Dutch army was re- 
duced to 34,000 men. The Iron Duke remained calm, 
but his lips were pale. The Austrian commissary, Vin- 
cent, the Spanish commissary, Olava, present at the 
battle of the English staff, thought the Duke was beyond 
hope. At 5 o'clock Wellington drew out his watch, and 
was heard to murmur these somber words: "Bliicher or 
night." 

It was about this time that a distant line of bayonets 
glistened on the heights beyond Frischemont. 

Here is the turning-point in this colossal drama. 

BAD GUIDE FOR NAPOLEON: GOOD GUIDE FOR BULOW 

We understand the bitter mistake of Napoleon; 
Grouchy hoped for, Bliicher arriving; death instead of 
life. 

Destiny has such turnings. Awaiting the world's 
throne, St. Helena became visible. 

If the Httle cowboy, who acted as guide to Billow, 
Bliicher's lieutenant, had advised him to debouch from 
the forest about Frischemont rather than below Planche- 
noit, the shaping of the nineteenth century would per- 
haps have been different. Napoleon would have won 
the battle of Waterloo. By any other road than below 
Planchenoit, the Prussian army would have brought up 
at a ravine impassable for artillery, and Biilow would 
not have arrived. 

Now, an hour of delay, as the Prussian general, 

283 



THE BOYS' BOOK OF BATTLES 

Miiffling, declares, and Bliicher would not have found 
Wellington in position; "the battle was lost." 

It was time, we have seen, that Biilow should arrive. 
He had bivouacked at Dion le Mont, and started on at 
dawn. But the roads were impracticable, and his divi- 
sion stuck in the mire. The cannon sank to the hubs in 
the ruts. Furthermore, he had to cross the Dyle on the 
narrow bridge of Wavre ; the street leading to the bridge 
had been fired by the French ; the caissons and artillery 
wagons, being unable to pass between two rows of burn- 
ing houses, had to wait till the fire was extinguished. 
It was noon before Biilow could reach Chapelle St.- 
Lambert. 

Had the action commenced two hours earlier it would 
have been finished at four o'clock, and Bliicher would 
have fallen upon a field already won by Napoleon, Such 
are these immense chances, proportioned to an infinity, 
which we cannot grasp. 

As early as midday the Emperor, first of all, with his 
field-glass, perceived in the extreme horizon something 
which fixed his attention. He said: ''I see yonder a 
cloud which appears to me to be troops." Then he 
asked the Duke of Dalmatia: ''Soult, what do you see 
toward Chapelle St.-Lambert?" The marshal, turning 
his glass that way, answered, "Four or five thousand 
men, sire. Grouchy, of course." Meanwhile, it remained 
motionless in the haze. The glasses of the whole staff 
studied "the cloud" pointed out by the Emperor. Some 
said: "They are columns halting." The most said: "It 
is trees." The fact is that the cloud did not stir. The 
Emperor detached Domon's division of light cavalry to 
reconnoiter this obscure point. 

284 



WATERLOO 

Biilow, in fact, had not moved. His vanguard was 
very weak and could do nothing. He had to wait for 
the bulk of his corps d'armee, and he was ordered to 
concentrate his force before entering into line; but 
at nve o'clock, seeing Wellington's peril, Bliicher 
ordered Biilow to attack, and uttered these remarkable 
words: "We must give the English army a breathing 
spell." 

Soon after, the divisions of Losthin, Hiller, Hacke, 
and Ryssel deployed in front of Lobau's corps, the 
cavalry of Prince William of Prussia debouched from 
the wood of Paris, Planchenoit was in flames, and the 
Prussian balls began to rain down even in the ranks of 
the Guard in reserve behind Napoleon. 

THE GUARD 

The rest is known ; the irruption of a third army, the 
battle thrown out of joint, eighty-six pieces of artillery 
suddenly thundering forth, Pirch the First coming up 
with Biilow, Ziethen's cavalry led by Bliicher in person, 
the French crowded back, Marcognet swept from the 
plateau of Ohain, Durutte dislodged from Papelotte, 
Donzelot and Quiot recoiling, Lobau taken en echarpe^ 
a new battle falling at nightfall upon our dismantled 
regiments, the whole English line assuming the offensive 
and pushed forward, the gigantic gap made in the 
French army, the English grape and the Prussian grape 
lending mutual aid, extermination, disaster in front, 
disaster in flank, the Guard entering into line amid this 
terrible crumbling. 

Feeling that they were going to their death they cried 
out: " Vive VEmpereurT' There is nothing more touch- 

28s 



THE BOYS' BOOK OF BATTLES 

ing in history than this death agony bursting forth in 
acclamations. 

The sky has been overcast all day. All at once, at 
this very moment — it was eight o'clock at night — the 
clouds in the horizon broke, and through the elms on 
the Nivelles road streamed the sinister red light of the 
setting sun. The rising sun shone upon Austerlitz. 

Each battalion of the Guard, for this final effort, was 
commanded by a general. Friant, Michel, Roguet, 
Harlet, Mallet, Poret de Morvan, were there. When the 
tall caps of the grenadiers of the Guard, with their large 
eagle plates, appeared, symmetrical, drawn up in line, 
calm, in the smoke of that conflict, the enemy felt 
respect for France; they thought they saw twenty 
victories entering upon the field of battle with wings 
extended, and those who were conquerors, thinking 
themselves conquered, recoiled; but Wellington cried 
"Up, Guards, and at them!" The red regiment of 
English Guards lying behind the hedges, rose up, a 
shower of grape riddled the tricolored flag fluttering 
about our eagles, all hurled themselves forward, and the 
final carnage began. The Imperial Guard felt the army 
slipping away around them in the gloom, and the vast 
overthrow of the rout; they heard the ^^Sauve qui peutl"^ 
which had replaced the "Fm V Empereur ! " and, with 
flight behind them, they held on their course, battered 
more and more and dying faster and faster at every 
step. There were no weak souls or cowards there. The 
privates of that band were as heroic as their general. 
Not a man flinched from the suicide. 

Ney, desperate, great in all the grandeur of accepted 

^ Save yourselves. 
286 



WATERLOO 

death, bared himself to every blow in this tempest. He 
had his horse killed under him. Reeking with sweat, fire 
in his eyes, froth upon his lips, his uniform unbuttoned, 
one of his epaulets half cut away by the saber stroke of a 
horse guard, his badge of the Grand Eagle pierced by a 
ball, bloody, covered with mud, magnificent, a broken 
sword in his hand, he said: "Come! and see how a mar- 
shal of France dies upon the field of battle!" But in 
vain; he did not die. He was haggard and exasperated. 
He flung this question at Drouet d'Erlon: "What! are 
you not going to die? " He cried out in the midst of all 
this artillery which was mowing down a handful of men : 
"Is there nothing, then, for me? Oh! I would that all 
these English balls were buried in my body!" Unhappy 
man ! thou wast reserved for French bullets ! 

THE CATASTROPHE 

The rout behind the Guard was dismal. 

The army fell back rapidly from all sides at once, from 
Hougomont, from La Haye Sainte, from Papelotte, from 
Planchenoit. The cry: "Treachery!" was followed by 
the cry: "Sauve qui pent!" A disbanding army is a 
thaw. The whole bends, cracks, snaps, floats, rolls, falls, 
crushes, hurries, plunges. Mysterious disintegration. 
Ney borrows a horse, leaps upon him, and without hat, 
cravat, or sword, plants himself in the Brussels road, 
arresting at once the English and the French. He 
endeavors to hold the army, to call them back, he re- 
proaches them, he grapples with the rout. He is swept 
away. The soldiers flee from him, crying: "Vive le 
Marshal Ney !" Durutte's two regiments come and go, 
frightened and tossed between the sabers of the Uhlans 

287 



THE BOYS' BOOK OF BATTLES 

and the fire of the brigades of Kempt, Best, Pack, and 
Rylandt; rout is the worst of all conflicts; friends slay 
each other in their flight; squadrons and battahons are 
crushed and dispersed against each other, enormous 
foam of the battle. Lobau at one extremity, like Reille 
at the other, is rolled away in the flood. In vain does 
Napoleon make walls with the remains of the Guard; 
in vain does he expend his reserve squadrons in a last 
effort. Quiot gives way before Vivian, Kellermann 
before Vandeleur, Lobau before Biilow, Moraud before 
Pirch, Doman and Lubervic before Prince William of 
Prussia. Guyot, who had led the Emperor's squadrons 
to the charge, falls under the feet of the English Horse. 
Napoleon gallops along the fugitives, harangues them, 
urges, threatens, entreats. The mouths, which in the 
morning were crying " Vive VEmpereur,^' are now agape; 
he is hardly recognized. The Prussian cavalry, just 
come up, spring forward, fling themselves upon the 
enemy, saber, cut, hack, kill, exterminate. Teams rush 
off, the guns are left to the care of themselves; the sol- 
diers of the train unhitch the caissons and take the 
horses to escape; wagons upset, with their four wheels 
in the air, block up the road, and are accessories of mas- 
sacre. They crush and they crowd ; they trample upon 
the Uving and the dead. Arms are broken. A multitude 
fills roads, paths, bridges, plains, hills, valleys, woods, 
choked up by this flight of forty thousand men. Cries, 
despair; knapsacks and muskets cast into the rye; 
passages forced at the point of the sword; no more 
comrades, no more officers, no more generals; inexpres- 
sible dismay. Ziethen sabering France at his ease. 
Lions become kids. Such was this flight. 

288 



EVENING OF THE BATTLE OF 
WATERLOO 



WATERLOO 

At Genappe there was an effort to turn back, to form a 
line, to make a stand. Lobau rallied three hundred men. 
The entrance to the village was barricaded, but at the 
first volley of Prussian grape all took to flight again and 
Lobau was captured. The marks of that volley of grape 
are still to be seen upon the old gable of a brick ruin at 
the right of the road, a short distance before entering 
Genappe. The Prussians rushed into Genappe, furious, 
doubtless, at having conquered so little. The pursuit 
was monstrous. Blucher gave orders to kill all. Roguet 
had set this sad example by threatening with death 
every French grenadier who should bring him a Prussian 
prisoner. Blucher surpassed Roguet. The general of the 
Young Guard, Duhesme, caught at the door of a tavern 
in Genappe, gave up his sword to a hussar of death, who 
took the sword and killed the prisoner. The victory 
was completed by the assassination of the vanquished. 
Let us punish, since we are history; old Blucher dis- 
graced himself. This ferocity filled the disaster to the 
brim. The desperate rout passed through Genappe, 
passed through Quatre Bras, passed through Sombreffe, 
passed through Frasness, passed through Thuin, passed 
through Charleroi, and stopped only at the frontier. 
Alas 1 who now was flying in such wise? The grand army. 

This madness, this terror, this falUng to ruins of the 
highest bravery which ever astonished history, can that 
be without cause? No. The shadow of an enormous 
right hand rests on Waterloo. It is the day of destiny. 
A power above man controlled that day. Hence, the 
loss of mind in dismay; hence, all these great souls yield- 
ing up their swords. Those who had conquered Europe 
fell to the ground, having nothing more to say or to do, 

289 



THE BOYS' BOOK OF BATTLES 

feeling a terrible presence in the darkness. Hoc erat in 
fatis.^ That day the perspective of the human race 
changed. Waterloo is the hinge of the nineteenth cen- 
tury. The disappearance of the great man was necessary 
for the advent of the great century. One, to whom there 
is no reply, took it in charge. The panic of heroes is 
explained. In the battle of Waterloo there is more than 
a cloud, there is a meteor. God passed over it. 

In the gathering night, on a field near Genappe, 
Bernard and Bertrand seized by a flap of his coat 
and stopped a 'haggard, thoughtful, gloomy man, who, 
dragged thus far by the current of the rout, had dis- 
mounted, passed the bridle of his horse under his arm, 
and, with bewildering eye, was returning alone toward 
Waterloo. It was Napoleon endeavoring to advance 
again, mighty somnambulist of a vanished dream. 

* So fate decreed. 



THE CHARGE OF THE LIGHT BRIGADE 

[1854] 

BY ALFRED, LORD TENNYSON 

Half a league, half a league, 
Half a league onward, 
All in the valley of Death 
Rode the six hundred! 
"Forward, the Light Brigade! 
Charge for the guns!" he said: 
Into the Valley of Death 
Rode the six hundred. 

"Forward, the Light Brigade!" 
Was there a man dismay'd ? 
Not tho' the soldier knew 

Some one had blunder'd: 
Theirs not to make reply, 
Theirs not to reason why. 
Theirs but to do and die. 
Into the Valley of Death 

Rode the six hundred. 

Cannon to right of them, 
Cannon to left of them. 
Cannon in front of them 
Volley 'd and thunder'd; 

291 



THE BOYS' BOOK OF BATTLES 

Storm'd at with shot and shell, 
Boldly they rode and well; 
Into the jaws of death, 
Into the mouth of hell 
Rode the six hundred. 



Flash 'd all their sabers bare, 
Flash'd as they turn'd in air 
Sabering the gunners there, 
Charging an army, while 

All the world wonder 'd. 
Plunged in the battle-smoke, 
Right thro' the hne they broke; 
Cossack and Russian 
Reel'd from the saber-stroke 

Shatter'd and sunder'd. 
Then they rode back, but not, 

Not the six hundred. 

Cannon to right of them, 
Cannon to left of them. 
Cannon behind them 

Volley'd and thunder'd; 
Storm'd at with shot and shell. 
While horse and hero fell, 
They that had fought so well 
Came thro' the jaws of Death, 
Back from the mouth of hell. 
All that was left of them, 

Left of six hundred. 

292 



THE RETURN OF THE LIGHT BRIGADE 



THE CHARGE OF THE LIGHT BRIGADE 

When can their glory fade? 
O the wild charge they made! 

All the world wonder'd. 
Honor the charge they made! 
Honor the Light Brigade, 

Noble six hundred! 



TAKEN PRISONER AT SHILOH 
[1862] 

BY HENRY M. STANLEY 

[Henry M. Stanley, the famous African explorer, was 
bom in Wales in 184 1. At the age of sixteen he came to 
America, and on the outbreak of the Civil War enUsted in 
the Confederate army. The Editor.] 

At four o'clock in the morning, we rose from our 
damp bivouac, and, after a hasty refreshment, were 
formed into line. We stood in rank for half an hour 
or so, while the military dispositions were being com- 
pleted along the three-mile front. Our brigade formed 
the center; Cleburne's and Gladden's brigades were on 
our respective flanks. 

Day broke with every promise of a fine day. Next to 
me, on my right, w^as a boy of seventeen, Henry Parker. 
I remember it because, while we stood-at-ease, he drew 
my attention to some violets at his feet, and said, "It 
would be a good idea to put a few into my cap. Per- 
haps the Yanks won't shoot me if they see me wearing 
such flowers, for they are a sign of peace." "Capital," 
said I, "I will do the same." W^e plucked a bunch, and 
arranged the violets in our caps. The men in the ranks 
laughed at our proceedings, and had not the enemy been 
so near, their merry mood might have been communi- 
cated to the army. 

\Ve loaded our muskets and arranged our cartridge- 
pouches ready for use. Our weapons were the obsolete 
flintlocks, and the ammunition was rolled in cartridge- 

294 



TAKEN PRISONER AT SHILOH 

paper, which contained powder, a round ball, and three 
buckshot. When we loaded, we had to tear the paper 
with our teeth, empty a little powder into the pan, lock 
it, empty the rest of the powder into the barrel, press 
paper and ball into the muzzle, and ram home. Then the 
orderly sergeant called the roll, and we knew that the 
Dixie Grays were present to a man. Soon after, there 
was a commotion, and we dressed up smartly. A young 
aide galloped along our front, gave some instructions to 
the Brigadier Hindman, who confided the same to his 
colonels, and presently we swayed forward in line, with 
shouldered arms. Newton Story, big, broad, and 
straight, bore our company banner of gay silk, at which 
the ladies of our neighborhood had labored. 

As we tramped solemnly and silently through the 
thin forest, and over its grass, still in its withered and 
wintry hue, I noticed that the sun was not far from ap- 
pearing, that our regiment was keeping its formation 
admirably, that the woods would have been a grand 
place for a picnic; and I thought it strange that a Sun- 
day shoujd have been chosen to disturb the holy calm 
of those woods. 

Before we had gone five hundred paces, our serenity 
was disturbed by some desultory firing in front. It was 
then a quarter-past five. ''They are at it already," we 
whispered to each other. "Stand by, gentlemen," — 
for we were all gentlemen volunteers at this time, — 
said our captain, L. G. Smith. Our steps became un- 
consciously brisker, and alertness was noticeable in 
everybody. The firing continued at intervals, deliberate 
and scattered, as at target-practice. We drew nearer 
to the fixing, and soon a sharper rattling of musketry 

295 



THE BOYS' BOOK OF BATTLES 

was heard. ''That is the enemy waking up," we said. 
Within a few minutes, there was another explosive 
burst of musketry, the air was pierced by many mis- 
siles, which hummed and pinged sharply by our ears, 
pattered through the tree-tops, and brought twigs and 
leaves down on us. "Those are bullets," Henry whis- 
pered with awe. 

At two hundred yards farther, a dreadful roar of 
musketry broke out from a regiment adjoining ours. It 
was followed by another farther off, and the sound had 
scarcely died away when regiment after regiment blazed 
away and made a continuous roll of sound. "We are 
in for it now," said Henry; but as yet we had seen noth- 
ing, though our ears were tinghng under the animated 
volleys. 

"Forward, gentlemen, make ready!" urged Captain 
Smith. In response, we surged forward, for the first 
time marring the alignment. We trampled recklessly 
over the grass and young sprouts. Beams of sunlight 
stole athwart our course. The sun was up above the 
horizon. Just then we came to a bit of packland, and 
overtook our skirmishers, who had been engaged in 
exploring our front. We passed beyond them. Nothing 
now stood between us and the enemy. 

"There they are!" was no sooner uttered than we 
cracked into them mth leveled muskets. "Aim low, 
men!" commanded Captain Smith. I tried hard to see 
some living thing to shoot at, for it appeared absurd to 
be blazing away at shadows. But, still advancing, firing 
as we moved, I, at last, saw a row of little globes of 
pearly smoke streaked with crimson, breaking out, with 
spurtive quickness, from a long line of bluey figures in 

296 



TAKEN PRISONER AT SHILOH 

front; and, simultaneously, there broke upon our ears an 
appalling crash of sound, the series of fusillades follow- 
ing one another with startling suddenness, which sug- 
gested to my somewhat moidered sense a mountain 
upheaved, with huge rocks tumbling and thundering 
down a slope, and the echoes rambling and receding 
through space. Again and again, these loud and quick 
explosions were repeated, seemingly with increased 
violence, until they rose to the highest pitch of fury, and 
in unbroken continuity. All the world seemed involved 
in one tremendous ruin! 

This was how the conflict was ushered in — as it 
affected me. I looked around to see the effect on others, 
or whether I was singular in my emotions, and was glad 
to notice that each was possessed with his own thoughts. 
All were pale, solemn, and absorbed; but, beyond that, 
it was impossible for me to discover what they thought 
of it; but by transmission of sympathy, I felt that they 
would gladly prefer to be elsewhere, though the law of 
the inevitable kept them in line to meet their destiny. 
It might be mentioned, however, that at no time were 
we more instinctively inclined to obey the voice of com- 
mand. We had no individuality at this moment, but all 
motions and thoughts were surrendered to the unseen 
influence which directed our movements. Probably few 
bothered their minds with self-questionings as to the 
issue to themselves. That properly belongs to other 
moments, to the night, to the interval between waking 
and sleeping, to the first moments of the dawn — not 
when every nerve is tense, and the spirit is at the highest 
pitch of action. 

Though one's senses were preternaturally acute, and 
297 



THE BOYS' BOOK OF BATTLES 

engaged with their impressions, we plied our arms, 
loaded, and fired, with such nervous haste as though it 
depended on each of us how soon this fiendish uproar 
would be hushed. My nerves tingled, my pulses beat 
double-quick, my heart throbbed loudly, and almost 
painfully; but, amid all the excitement, my thoughts, 
swift as the flash of lightning, took all sound, and sight, 
and self, into their purview. I listened to the battle 
raging far away on the flanks, to the thunder in front, 
to the various sounds made by the leaden storm. I was 
angry with my rear rank, because he made my eyes 
smart with the powder of his musket; and I felt like 
cuffing him for deafening my ears ! I knew how Captain 
Smith and Lieutenant Mason looked, how bravely the 
Dixie Grays' banner ruffled over Newton Story's head, 
and that all hands were behaving as though they knew 
how long all this would last. Back to myself my thoughts 
came, and, with the whirring bullet, they fled to the 
blue-bloused ranks afront. They dwelt on their move- 
ments, and read their temper, as I should read time by 
a clock. Through the lurid haze the contours of their 
pink faces could -not be seen, but their gappy, hesit- 
ating, incoherent, and sensitive line revealed their mood 
clearly. 

We continued advancing, step by step, loading and 
firing as we went. To every forward step, they took a 
backward move, loading and firing as they slowly with- 
drew. Twenty thousand muskets were being fired at 
this stage, but, though accuracy of aim was impossible, 
owing to our laboring hearts, and the jarring and excite- 
ment, many bullets found their destined billets on both 
sides. 

298 



TAKEN PRISONER AT SHILOH 

After a steady exchange of musketry, which lasted 
some time, we heard the order: "Fix bayonets! On the 
double-quick!" in tones that thrilled us. There was a 
simultaneous bound forward, each soul doing his best 
for the emergency. The Federals appeared inclined to 
await us; but, at this juncture, our men raised a yell, 
thousands responded to it, and burst out into the wildest 
yelling it has ever been my lot to hear. It drove all 
sanity and order from among us. It served the double 
purpose of relieving pent-up feelings, and transmitting 
encouragement along the attacking line. I rejoiced in 
the shouting like the rest. It reminded me that there 
were about four hundred companies like the Dixie 
Grays, who shared our feelings. Most of us, engrossed 
with the musket- work, had forgotten the fact; but the 
wave after wave of human voices, louder than all other 
battle-sounds together, penetrated to every sense, and 
stimulated our energies to the utmost. 

"They fly!" was echoed from lip to lip. It accelerated 
our pace, and filled us with a noble rage. Then I knew 
what the berserker passion was! It deluged us with rap- 
ture, and transfigured each Southerner into an exulting 
victor. At such a moment, nothing could have halted 
us. 

Those savage yells, and the sight of thousands of 
racing figures coming towards them, discomfited the 
blue-coats; and when we arrived upon the place where 
they had stood, they had vanished. Then we caught 
sight of their beautiful array of tents, before which they 
had made their stand, after being roused from their 
Sunday-morning sleep, and huddled into line, at hearing 
their pickets challenge our skirmishers. The half- 

299 



THE BOYS' BOOK OF BATTLES 

dressed dead and wounded showed what a surprise our 
attack had been. We drew up in the enemy's camp, 
panting and breathing hard. Some precious minutes 
were thus lost in recovering our breaths, indulging our 
curiosity, and re-forming our line. Signs of a hasty 
rouse to the battle were abundant. Military equip- 
ments, uniform-coats, half-packed knapsacks, bedding, 
of a new and superior quality, littered the company 
streets. 

Meantime, a series of other camps lay behind the 
first array of tents. The resistance we had met, though 
comparatively brief, enabled the brigades in rear of the 
advance camp to recover from the shock of the surprise; 
but our delay had not been long enough to give them 
time to form in proper order of battle. There were wide 
gaps between their divisions, into which the quick- 
flowing tide of elated Southerners entered, and com- 
pelled them to fall back lest they should be surrounded. 
Prentiss's brigade, despite their most desperate efforts, 
were thus hemmed in on all sides, and were made 
prisoners. 

I had a momentary impression that, with the capture 
of the first camp, the battle was well-nigh over; but, in 
fact, it was only a brief prologue of the long and exhaus- 
tive series of struggles which took place that day. 

Continuing our advance, we came in view of the tops 
of another mass of white tents, and, almost at the same 
time, were met by a furious storm of bullets, poured on 
us from a long line of blue-coats, whose attitude of as- 
surance proved to us that we should have tough work 
here. But we were so much heartened by our first suc- 
cess that it would have required a good deal to have 

300 



TAKEN PRISONER AT SHILOH 

halted our advance for long. Their opportunity for 
making a full impression on us came with terrific sudden- 
ness. The world seemed bursting into fragments. Can- 
non and musket, shell and bullet, lent their several 
intensities to the distracting uproar. If I had not a frac- 
tion of an ear, and an eye inclined toward my captain 
and company, I had been spell-bound by the energies 
now opposed to us. I hkened the cannon, with their 
deep bass, to the roaring of a great herd of lions; the 
ripping, cracking musketry, to the incessant yapping 
of terriers; the windy whisk of shells, and zipping of 
minie bullets, to the swoop of eagles, and the buzz of 
angry wasps. All the opposing armies of gray and blue 
fiercely blazed at each other. 

After being exposed for a few seconds to this fearful 
downpour, we heard the order to "Lie down, men, and 
continue your firing!'' Before me was a prostrate tree, 
about fifteen inches in diameter, with a narrow strip of 
light between it and the ground. Behind this shelter 
a dozen of us flung ourselves. The security it appeared to 
offer restored me to my individuality. We could fight, 
and think, and observe, better than out in the open. 
But it was a terrible period! How the cannon bellowed, 
and their shells plunged and bounded, and flew with 
screeching hisses over us! Their sharp rending explo- 
sions and hurtling fragments made us shrink and cower, 
despite our utmost efforts to be cool and collected. I 
marveled, as I heard the unintermitting patter, snip, 
thud, and hum of the bullets, how any one could live 
under this raining death. I could hear the balls beating 
a merciless tattoo on the outer surface of the log, ping- 
ing vivaciously as they flew off at a tangent from it, and 

301 



THE BOYS' BOOK OF BATTLES 

thudding into something or other, at the rate of a hun- 
dred a second. One, here and there, found its way under 
the log, and buried itself in a comrade's body. One 
man raised his chest, as if to yawn, and jostled me. I 
turned to him, and saw that a bullet had gored his whole 
face, and penetrated into his chest. Another ball struck 
a man a deadly rap on the head, and he turned on his 
back and showed his ghastly white face to the sky. 

"It is getting too warm, boys!" cried a soldier, and he 
uttered a vehement curse upon keeping soldiers hugging 
the ground until every ounce of courage was chilled. He 
lifted his head a little too high, and a bullet skimmed 
over the top of the log and hit him fairly in the center 
of his forehead, and he fell heavily on his face. But his 
thought had been instantaneously general; and the 
officers, with one voice, ordered the charge, and cries of 
*' Forward! Forward!" raised us, as with a spring, to 
our feet, and changed the complexion of our feelings. 
The pulse of action beat feverishly once more; and, 
though overhead was crowded with peril, we were 
unable to give it so much attention as when we lay 
stretched on the ground. 

Just as we bent our bodies for the onset, a boy's voice 
cried out, "Oh, stop, please stop a bit; I have been hurt, 
and can't move!" I turned to look, and saw Henry 
Parker, standing on one leg, and dolefully regarding his 
smashed foot. In another second, we were striding 
impetuously toward the enemy, vigorously plying our 
muskets, stopping only to prime the pan and ram the 
load down, when, with a spring or two, we would fetch 
up with the front, aim, and fire. 

Our progress was not so continuously rapid as we 
302 



TAKEN PRISONER AT SHILOH 

desired, for the blues were obdurate ; but at this moment 
we were gladdened at the sight of a battery galloping 
to our assistance. It was time for the nerve-shaking 
cannon to speak. After two rounds of shell and canister, 
we felt the pressure on us slightly relaxed; but we were 
still somewhat sluggish in disposition, though the 
officers' voices rang out imperiously. Newton Story at 
this juncture strode forward rapidly with the Dixies' 
banner, until he was quite sixty yards ahead of the fore- 
most. Finding himself alone, he halted; and turning to 
us smilingly, said, "Why don't you come on, boys? 
You see there is no danger!" His smile and words acted 
on us like magic. We raised the yell, and sprang lightly 
and hopefully toward him. "Let's give them hell, 
boys!" said one. "Plug them plum-center, every 
time!" 

It was all very encouraging, for the yelling and shout- 
ing were taken up by thousands. "Forward, forward; 
don't give them breathing time!" was cried. We 
instinctively obeyed, and soon came in clear view of the 
blue-coats, who were scornfully unconcerned at first; 
but, seeing the leaping tide of men coming on at a tre- 
mendous pace, their front dissolved, and they fled in 
double-quick retreat. Again we felt the "glorious joy 
of heroes." It carried us on exultingly, rejoicing in the 
spirit which recognizes nothing but the prey. We were 
no longer an army of soldiers, but so many schoolboys 
racing, in which length of legs, wind, and condition 
tell. 

We gained the second line of camps, continued the 
rush through them, and clean beyond it. It was now 
about ten o'clock. My physical powers were quite 

303 



THE BOYS' BOOK OF BATTLES 

exhausted, and, to add to my discomfiture, something 
struck me on my belt-clasp, and tumbled me headlong 
to the ground. 

I could not have been many minutes prostrated before 
I recovered from the shock of the blow and fall, to find 
my clasp deeply dented and cracked. My company was 
not in sight. I was grateful for the rest, and crawled 
feebly to a tree, and plimging my hand into my haver- 
sack, ate ravenously. Within half an hour, feeling reno- 
vated, I struck north in the direction which my regiment 
had taken, over a ground strewn with bodies and the 
debris of war. . . . 

I overtook my regiment about one o'clock, and found 
that it was engaged in one of these occasional spurts of 
fury. The enemy resolutely maintained their ground, 
and our side was preparing for another assault. The 
firing was alternately brisk and slack. We lay down, 
and availed ourselves of trees, logs, and hollows, and 
annoyed their upstanding ranks; battery pounded bat- 
tery, and, meanwhile, we hugged our resting-places 
closely. Of a sudden, we rose and raced towards the po- 
sition, and took it by sheer weight and impetuosity, as 
we had done before. About three o'clock, the battle grew 
very hot. The enemy appeared to be more concentrated, 
and immovably sullen. Both sides fired better as they 
grew more accustomed to the din; but, with assistance 
from the reserves, we were continually pressing them 
towards the river Tennessee, without ever retreating 
an inch. 

About this time, the enemy were assisted by the gun- 
boats, which hurled their enormous projectiles far 
beyond us; but, though they made great havoc among 

304 



TAKEN PRISONER AT SHILOH 

the trees, and created terror, they did comparatively 
little damage to those in close touch with the enemy. 

The screaming of the big shells, when they first began 
to sail over our heads, had the effect of reducing our 
fire; for they were as fascinating as they were distracting. 
But we became used to them, and our attention was 
being claimed more in front. Our officers were more 
urgent; and, when we saw the growing dike of white 
cloud that signaled the bullet-storm, we could not be 
indifferent to the more immediate danger. Dead bodies^ 
w^ounded men writhing in agony, and assuming every 
distressful attitude, were frequent sights; but what 
made us heart-sick was to see, now and then, the well- 
groomed charger of an officer, with fine saddle, and 
scarlet and yellow-edged cloth, and brass- tipped holsters, 
or a stray cavalry or artillery horse, galloping between 
the lines, snorting with terror, while his entrails, soiled 
with dust, trailed behind him. 

Our officers had continued to show the same alertness 
and vigor throughout the day; but, as it drew near four 
o'clock, though they strove to encourage and urge us on, 
they began to abate somewhat in their energy; and it 
was evident that the pluckiest of the men lacked the 
spontaneity and springing ardor which had distinguished 
them earlier in the day. Several of our company lagged 
wearily behind, and the remainder showed, by their 
drawn faces, the effects of their efforts. Yet, after a 
short rest, they were able to make splendid spurts. As 
for myself, I had only one wish, and that was for repose. 
The long-continued excitement, the successive tauten- 
ing and relaxing of the nerves, the quenchless thirst, 
made more intense by the fumes of sulphurous powder, 

305 



THE BOYS' BOOK OF BATTLES 

and the caking grime on the lips, caused by tearing the 
paper cartridges, and a ravening hunger, all combined, 
had reduced me to a walking automaton, and I earnestly 
wished that night would come, and stop all further 
effort. 

Finally, about five o'clock, we assaulted and captured 
a large camp; after driving the enemy well away from it, 
the front Hne was as thin as that of a skirmishing body, 
and we were ordered to retire to the tents. There we 
hungrily sought after provisions, and I was lucky in 
finding a supply of biscuits and a canteen of excellent 
molasses, which gave great comfort to myself and friends. 
The plunder in the camp was abundant. There were 
bedding, clothing, and accouterments without stint; 
but people were so exhausted they could do no more 
than idly turn the things over. Night soon fell, and only 
a few stray shots could now be heard, to remind us of the 
thrilling and horrid din of the day, excepting the huge 
bombs from the gunboats, which, as we were not far 
from the blue-coats, discomfited only those in the rear. 
By eight o'clock, I was repeating my experiences in the 
region of dreams, indifferent to columbiads and mortars, 
and the torrential rain which, at midnight, increased 
the miseries of the wounded and tentless. 

An hour before dawn, I awoke from a refreshing sleep; 
and, after a hearty replenishment of my vitals with 
biscuit and molasses, I conceived myself to be fresher 
than on Sunday morning. WTiile awaiting daybreak, I 
gathered from other early risers their ideas in regard to 
the events of yesterday. They were under the impression 
that we had gained a great victory, though we had not, 
as we had anticipated, reached the Tennessee River. 

306 



TAKEN PRISONER AT SHILOH 

Van Dorn, with his expected reinforcements for us, was 
not likely to make his appearance for many days yet; 
and, if General Buell, with his twenty thousand troops, 
had joined the enemy during the night, we had a bad 
day's work before us. We were short of provisions and 
ammunition, General Sidney Johnston, our chief com- 
mander, had been killed; but Beauregard was safe and 
unhurt, and, if Buell was absent, we would win the day. 
At daylight, I fell in with my company, but there 
were only about fifty of the Dixies present. Almost imme- 
diately after, symptoms of the coming battle were mani- 
fest. Regiments were hurried into line, but, even to my 
inexperienced eyes, the troops were in ill-condition for 
repeatmg the efforts of Sunday. However, in brief time, 
in consequence of our pickets being driven in on us, we 
were moved forward in skirmishing order. With m^y 
musket on the trail I found myself in active motion, 
more active than otherwise I would have been, perhaps, 
because Captain Smith had said, "Now, Mr. Stanley, if 
you please, step briskly forward!" This singling-out of 
me wounded my amour-propre, and sent me forward like 
a rocket. In a short time we met our opponents in the 
same formation as ourselves, and advancing most reso- 
lutely. We threw ourselves behind such trees as were 
near us, fired, loaded, and darted forward to another 
shelter. Presently I found myself in an open, grassy 
space, with no convenient tree or stump near; but, see- 
ing a shallow hollow some twenty paces ahead, I made 
a dash for it, and plied my musket with haste. I became 
so absorbed with some blue figures in front of me, that I 
did not pay sufficient heed to my companion grays; the 
open space was too dangerous, perhaps, for their ad- 

307 



THE BOYS' BOOK OF BATTLES 

vance; for, had they emerged, I should have known 
they were pressing forward. Seeing my blues in about 
the same proportion, I assumed that the grays were 
keeping their position, and never once thought of 
retreat. However, as, despite our firing, the blues were 
coming uncomfortably near, I rose from my hollow; but, 
to my speechless amazement, I found myself a solitary 
gray, in a line of blue skirmishers ! My companions had 
retreated! The next I heard was, "Down with that gun, 
Secesh, or I '11 drill a hole through you ! Drop it, quick ! " 
Half a dozen of the enemy were covering me at the 
same instant, and I dropped my weapon, incontinently. 
Two men sprang at my collar, and marched me, unre- 
sisting, into the ranks of the terrible Yankees. / was a 
prisoner I 



A DRUMMER-BOY AT GETTYSBURG 
[1863] 

BY HARRY M. KIEFFER 

"Harry, I'm getting tired of this thing. It's becoming 
monotonous, this thing of being roused every morning 
at four, with orders to pack up and be ready to march 
at a moment's notice, and then lying around here all 
day in the sun. I don't believe we are going anywhere, 
anyhow." 

We had been encamped for six weeks, of which I need 
give no special account, only saying that in those 
"summer quarters," as they might be called, we went 
on with our endless drilling, and were baked and 
browned, and thoroughly hardened to the life of a sol- 
dier in the field. 

The monotony of which Andy complained did not end 
that day, nor the next. For six successive days we were 
regularly roused at four o'clock in the morning, with 
orders to "pack up and be ready to move imm.ediately ! " 
only to unpack as regularly about the middle of the after- 
noon. We could hear our batteries pounding away in the 
direction of Fredericksburg, but we did not then know 
that we were being held well in hand till the enemy's plan 
had developed itself into the great march into Pennsyl- 
vania, and we were let off in hot pursuit. 

So, at last, on the 12th of June, 1863, we started, at 
five o'clock in the morning, in a northwesterly direction. 
My journal says: "Very warm, dust plenty, water 

309 



THE BOY'S BOOK OF BATTLES 

scarce, marching very hard. Halted at dusk at an excel- 
lent spring, and lay down for the night with aching limbs 
and blistered feet." 

I pass over the six days' continuous marching that 
followed, steadily on toward the north, pausing only to 
relate several incidents that happened by the way. 

On the 14th we were racing with the enemy — we 
being pushed on to the utmost of human endurance — 
for the possession of the defenses of Washington. From 
five o'clock of that morning till three the following morn- 
ing, — that is to say from daylight to daylight, — we 
were hurried along under a burning June sun, with no 
halt longer than sufficient to recruit our strength with a 
hasty cup of coffee at noon and nightfall. Nine, ten, 
eleven, twelve o'clock at night, and still on! It was 
almost more than flesh could endure. Men fell out of 
line in the darkness by the score, and tumbled over by 
the roadside, asleep almost before they touched the 
ground. 

I remember how a great tall fellow in our company 
made us laugh along somewhere about one o'clock that 
morning, — "Pointer," we called him, ^ — an excellent 
soldier, who afterward fell at his post at Spottsylvania. 
He had been trudging on in sullen silence for hours, 
when all of a sudden, coming to a halt, he brought his 
piece to "order arms" on the hard road with a ring, took 
off his cap, and, in language far more forcible than ele- 
gant, began forthwith to denounce both parties to the 
war, "from A to Izzard," in all branches of the service, 
civil and military, army and navy, artillery, infantry, and 
cavalry, and demanded that the enemy should come 
on in full force here and now, "and I'll fight them all, 

310 



A DRUMMER-BOY AT GETTYSBURG 

single-handed and alone, the whole pack of 'em! I'm 
tired of this everlasting marching, and I want to fight ! " 

"Three cheers for Pointer!" cried some one, and we 
laughed heartily as we toiled doggedly on to Manassas, 
which we reached at 3 a.m., June 15. I can assure you, 
we lost no time in stretching ourselves at full length in 
the tall summer grass. 

"James McFadden, report to the adjutant for camp 
guard! James McFadden! Anybody know where Jim 
McFadden is?" 

Now that was rather hard, was n't it? To march from 
daylight to daylight, and lie down for a rest of probably 
two hours before starting again, and then to be called 
up to stand throughout those precious two hours on 
guard duty! 

I knew very well where McFadden was, for was n't 
he lying right beside me in the grass ? But just then I 
was in no humor to tell. The camp might well go with- 
out a guard that night, or the orderly might fi.nd Mc- 
Fadden in the dark if he could. 

But the rules were strict, and the punishment was 
severe, and poor McFadden, bursting into tears of vexa- 
tion, answered like a man: "Here I am, orderly; I'll go." 
It was hard. 

Two weeks later, both McFadden and the orderly 
went where there is neither marching nor standing 
guard any more. 

Now comes a long rest of a week, in the woods near the 
Potomac; for we have been marching parallel with the 
enemy, and dare not go too fast, lest, by some sudden 
and dexterous move in the game, he should sweep past 
our rear in upon the defenses of Washington. And after 

311 



THE BOYS' BOOK OF BATTLES 

this sweet refreshment, we cross the Potomac on pon- 
toons, and march, perhaps with a Hghter step, since we 
are nearing home, through the smihng fields and pleas- 
ant villages of "Maryland, my Maryland." At Pooles- 
ville, a little town on the north bank of the Potomac, we 
smile as we see a lot of children come trooping out of the 
village school, — a merry sight to men who have seen 
neither woman nor child these six months and more, and 
a touching sight to many a man in the ranks as he thinks 
of his little flaxen heads in the far-away home. Aye, 
think of them now, and think of them full tenderly, too, 
for many a man of you shall never have child climb on 
his knee any more! 

As we enter one of those pleasant little Maryland vil- 
lages, — Jefferson by name, ■ — we find on the outskirts 
of the place two young ladies and two young gentlemen, 
wavmg the good old flag as we pass, and singing, "Rally 
round the Flag, Boys!" The excitement along the line 
is intense. Cheer on cheer is given, by regiment after 
regiment, as we pass along, we drummer-boys beating, 
at the colonel's express orders, the old tune, "The Girl 
I left behind me," as a sort of response. Soon we are in 
among the hills again, and still the cheering goes on in 
the far distance to the rear. 

Only ten days later, we passed through the same vil- 
lage again, and were met by the same young ladies and 
gentlemen, waving the same flag and singing the same 
song. But though we tried twice, and tried hard, we 
could not cheer at all; for there's a difference between 
five hundred men and one hundred, • — is there not? So, 
that second tune, we drooped our tattered flags, and raised 
our caps in silent and sorrowful salute. Through Middle- 

312 



A DRUMMER-BOY AT GETTYSBURG 

town next, where a rumor reaches us that the enemy's 
forces have occupied Harrisburg, and where certain 
ladies, standing on a balcony and waving their handker- 
chiefs as we pass by, in reply to our colonel's greeting, 
that "we are glad to see so many Union people here," 
answer, "Yes; and we are glad to see the Yankee sol- 
diers, too." 

From Middletown, at six o'clock in the evening, across 
the mountain to Frederick, on the outskirts of which 
city we camp for the night. At half-past five next morn- 
ing (June 29) we are up and away, in a drizzling rain, 
through Lewistown and Mechanicstown, near which 
latter place we pass a company of Confederate prisoners, 
twenty-four in number, dressed in well-worn gray and 
butternut, which makes us think that the enemy cannot 
be far ahead. After a hard march of twenty-five miles, 
the greater part of the way over a turnpike, we reach 
Emmittsburg at nightfall, some of us quite barefoot, 
and all of us footsore and weary. Next morning (June 
30) at nine o'clock we were up and away again, "on the 
road leading towards Gettysburg," they say. After 
crossing the line between Maryland and Pennsylvania, 
where the colonel halts the column for a moment, in 
order that we may give three rousing cheers for the 
"Old Keystone State," we march perceptibly slower, 
as if there were some impediment in the way. There is 
a feeling among the men that the enemy is somewhere 
near. Toward noon we leave the public road, and tak- 
ing across the fields, form in line of battle along the rear 
of a wood, and pickets are thrown out. There is an air 
of uncertainty and suspicion in the ranks as we look to 
the woods, and consider what our pickets may possibly 

313 



THE BOYS' BOOK OF BATTLES 

unmask there. But no developments have yet been 
made when darkness comes, and we bivouac for the 
night behind a strong stone wall. 

Passing down along the line of glowing fires, in the 
gathering gloom, I come on one of my company messes 
squatting about a fire, cooking supper. Joe Gutelius, 
corporal and color-guard from our company, is super- 
intending the boiling of a piece of meat in a tin can, 
while Sam Ruhl and his brother Joe are smoking their 
pipes near by. 

"Boys, it begins to look a little dubious, don't it? 
Where is Jimmy Lucas?" 

" He 's out on picket, in the woods yonder. Yes, Harry, 
it begins to look a little as if we were about to stir the 
Johnnies out of the brush," says Joe Gutelius, throwing 
another rail on the fire. 

"If we do," says Joe Ruhl, "remember that you have 
the post of honor, Joe, and ' if any man pulls down that 
flag, shoot him on the spot!'" 

"Never you fear for that," answers Joe Gutelius. "We 
of the color-guard will look out for the flag. For my part, 
I 'fl stay a dead man on the field before the colors of the 
150th are disgraced." 

"You'll have some tough tussling for your colors, 
then," says Sam. "If the 'Louisiana Tigers' get after 
you once, look out!" 

"Who's afraid of the 'Louisiana Tigers'? I'fl back 
the 'Bucktails' against the 'Tigers' any day. Stay and 
take supper with us, Harry! We are going to have a 
feast to-night. I have the heart of a beef boiling in the 
can yonder; and it is done now. Sit up, boys, get out 
your knives, and fall to." 

314 



A DRUMMER BOY AT GETTYSBURG 

"We 're going to have boiled lion heart for supper, 
Harry," says Joek Ruhl, with mock apology for the 
fare, "but we could n't catch any lions. They seem to 
be scarce in these parts. Maybe, we can catch a tiger, 
to-morrow, though." 

Little do we think, as we sit thus cheerily talking 
about the blazing fire behind the stone wall, that it is 
our last supper together, and that ere another nightfall 
two of us will be sleeping in the silent bivouac of the 
dead. 

" Colonel, close up your men, and move on as rapidly 
as possible." 

It is the morning of July i, and we are crossing a 
bridge over a stream, as the staff o£Qcer, having delivered 
this order for us, dashes down the line to hurry up the 
regiments in the rear. We get up on a high range of 
hills, from which we have a magnificent view. The day 
is bright, the air is fresh and sweet with the scent of the 
newmown hay, and the sun shines out of an almost 
cloudless sky, and as we gaze away off yonder down the 
valley to the left — look ! Do you see that? A puff of 
smoke in midair! Very small, and miles away, as the 
faint and long-coming "boom" of the exploding shell 
indicates; but it means that something is going on yon- 
der, away down in the valley, in which, perhaps, we may 
have a hand before the day is done. See! another — and 
another! Faint and far away comes the long-delayed 
"boom!" "boom!" echoing over the hills, as the staff 
officer dashes along the lines with orders to "double- 
quick! double-quick!" 

Four miles of almost constant double-quicking is no 

315 



THE BOYS' BOOK OF BATTLES 

light work at any time, least of all on such a day as this 
memorable ist day of July, for it is hot and dusty. But 
we are in our own State now, boys, and the battle is 
opening ahead, and it is no time to save breath. On we 
go, now up a hill, now over a stream, now checking our 
headlong rush for a moment, for we mtist breathe a little. 
But the word comes along the line again, "double-quick," 
and we settle down to it with right good will, while the 
cannon ahead seem to be getting nearer and louder. 
There 's little said in the ranks, for there is little breath 
for talking, though every man is busy enough thinking. 
We all feel, somehow, that our day has come at last — 
as indeed it has! 

We get in through the outskirts of Gettysburg, tear- 
ing down fences of the town lots and outlying gardens as 
we go; we pass a battery of brass guns drawn up beside 
the Seminary, some hundred yards in front of which 
building, in a strip of meadow land, we halt, and rapidly 
form the line of battle. 

"General, shall we unsling knapsacks?" shouts some 
one down the line to our division general, as he is dashing 
by. 

"Never mind the knapsacks, boys; it's the State 
now!" 

And he plunges his spurs into the flanks of his horse, 
as he takes the stake-and-rider fence at a leap, and is 
away. 

"Unfurl the flags, color-guard!" 

"Now, forward, double — " 

"Colonel, we're not loaded yet!" 

A laugh runs along the line as, at the command, "Load 
at will — load!" the ramrods make their merry music, 

316 



A DRUMMER BOY AT GETTYSBURG 

and at once the word is given, " Forward, double-quick ! " 
and the line sweeps up that rising ground with banners 
gayly flying, and cheers that rend the air, — a sight, once 
seen, never to be forgotten. 

I suppose my readers wonder what a drummer-boy 
does in time of battle. Perhaps they have the same idea 
I used to have, namely, that it is the duty of a drum- 
mer-boy to beat his drimi all the time the battle rages, 
to encourage the men or drown the groans of the wounded ! 
But if they will reflect a moment, they will see that amid 
the confusion and noise of battle, there is little chance of 
martial music being either heard or heeded. Our colonel 
had long ago given us our orders, — 

"You drummer-boys, in time of an engagement, are 
to lay aside your drums and take stretchers and help 
off the wounded. I expect you to do this, and you are to 
remember that, in doing it, you are just as much helping 
the battle on as if you were fighting with guns in your 
hands." 

And so we sit down there on our drums and watch the 
line going in with cheers. Forthwith we get a smart 
shelling, for there is evidently somebody else watching 
that advancing line besides ourselves; but they have 
elevated their guns a little too much, so that every shell 
passes quite over the line and ploughs up the meadow 
sod about iis in all directions. 

Laying aside our knapsacks, we go to the Seminary, 
now rapidly filling with the wounded. This the enemy 
surely cannot know, or they would n't shell the building 
so hard ! We get stretchers at the ambulances, and start 
out for the line of battle. We can Just see our regimental 
colors waving in the orchard, near a log house about 

317 



THE BOYS' BOOK OF BATTLES 

three hundred yards ahead, and we start out for it — I 
on the lead, and Daney behind. 

There is one of our batteries drawn up to our left a 
short distance as we run. It is engaged in a sharp ar- 
tillery duel with one of the enemy's, which we cannot 
see, although we can hear it plainly enough, and straight 
between the two our road lies. So, up we go, Daney and 
I, at a lively trot, dodging the shells as best we can, till, 
panting for breath, we set down our stretcher under an 
apple tree in the orchard, in which, under the brow of 
the hill, we find the regiment lying, one or two com- 
panies being out on the skirmish line ahead. 

I count six men of Company C lying yonder in the 
grass — killed, they say, by a single shell. Close beside 
them lies a tall, magnificently built man, whom I recog- 
nize by his uniform as belonging to the "Iron Brigade," 
and therefore probably an Iowa boy. He lies on his back 
at full length, with his musket beside him — calm-look- 
ing as if asleep, but having a fatal blue mark on his 
forehead and the ashen pallor of death on his counte- 
nance. Andy calls me away for a moment to look after 
some poor fellow whose arm is off at the shoulder; and 
it was just time I got away, too, for immediately a shell 
plunges into the sod where I had been sitting, tearing 
my stretcher to tatters, and ploughing up a great furrow 
under one of the boys who had been sitting immediately 
behind me, and who thinks, "That was rather close 
shaving, was n't it, now?" The bullets whistling over- 
head make pretty music with their ever- varying "z-i-p! 
z-i-p!" and we could imagine them so many bees, only 
they have such a terribly sharp sting. They tell me, too, 
of a certain cavalryman, Dennis Buckley, Sixth Michi- 

318 



A DRUMMER BOY AT GETTYSBURG 

gan Cavalry, it was, as I afterwards learned — let his- 
tory preserve the brave boy's name, who, having had 
his horse shot under him, and seeing that first-named 
shell explode in Company C with such disaster, exclaimed, 
"That is the company for me!" He remained with the 
regiment all day, doing good service with his carbine, 
and he escaped unhurt! 

"Here they come, boys; we'll have to go in at them on 
a charge, I guess!" Creeping close around the corner of 
the log-house, I can see the long lines of gray sweeping 
up in fine style over the fields; but I feel the colonel's 
hand on my shoulder. 

"Keep back, my boy; no use exposing yourself in that 
way." 

As I get back behind the house and look around, an 
old man is seen approaching our line through the or- 
chard in the rear. He is dressed in a long blue swallow- 
tailed coat and high silk hat, and coming up to the 
colonel, he asks, — 

"Would you let an old chap like me have a chance to 
fight in your ranks, colonel?" 

"Can you shoot?" inquires the colonel. 

"Oh, yes, I can shoot, I reckon," says he. 

"But where are your cartridges?" 

"I've got 'em here, sir," says the old man, slapping 
his hand on his trousers pocket. 

And so "old John Burns," of whom every schoolboy 
has heard, takes his place in the line, and loads and fires 
with the best of them, and is left wounded and insensible 
on the field when the day is done. 

Reclining there under a tree while the skirmishing is 
going on in front, and the shells are tearing up the sod 

319 



THE BOYS' BOOK OF BATTLES 

around us, I observe how evidently hard-pressed is that 
battery yonder in the edge of the wood, about fifty yards 
to our right. The enemy's batteries have excellent range 
on the poor fellows serving it. And when the smoke Hfts 
or rolls away, in great clouds, for a moment, we can see 
the men running, and ramming, and sighting, and firing, 
and swabbing, and changing position every few minutes, 
to throw the enemy's guns out of range a little. The men 
are becoming terribly few, but nevertheless their guns, 
with a rapidity that seems unabated, belch forth great 
clouds of smoke, and send the shells shrieking over the 
plain. 

Meanwhile, events occur which give us something 
more to think of than mere skirmishing and shelling. 
Our beloved brigadier-general, Roy Stone, stepping out a 
moment to reconnoiter the enemy's position and move- 
ments, is seen by some sharpshooter off in a tree, and is 
carried, severely wounded, into the barn. Our colonel, 
Langhorne Wister, assumes command of the brigade. 
Our regiment, facing westward, while the line on our 
right faces to the north, is observed to be exposed to an 
enfilading fire from the enemy's guns, as well as from the 
long line of gray now appearing in full sight on our right. 
So our regiment must form in line and "change front 
forward," in order to come in line with the other regi- 
ments. Accomplished swiftly, this new movement 
brings our line at once face to face with the enemy's, 
which advances to within fifty yards, and exchanges a few 
volleys, but is soon checked and staggered by our fire. 

Yet now, see ! Away to our left, and consequently on 
our flank, a new line appears, rapidly advancing out of 
the woods a half mile away, and there must be some 

320 



A DRUMMER BOY AT GETTYSBURG 

quick and sharp work done now, boys, or, between the 
old foes in front and the new ones on our flank, we shall 
be annihilated. To clear us of these old assailants in 
front before the new line can sweep down on our flank, 
our brave colonel, in a ringing command, orders a charge 
along the whole line. Then, before the gleaming and 
bristling bayonets of our "Bucktail" Brigade as it yells 
and cheers, sweeping resistlessly over the field, the 
enemy gives way, and flies in confusion. But there is 
little time to watch them fly, for that new line on our 
left is approaching at a rapid pace; and, with shells fall- 
ing thick and fast into our ranks, and men dropping 
everywhere, our regiment must reverse the former 
movement by "changing front to rear," and so resume 
its original position, facing westward; for the enemy's 
new line is approaching from that direction, and if it 
takes us in flank we are done for. 

To "change front to rear" is a diflEicult movement 
to execute even on drill, much more so under severe fire, 
but it is executed now, steadily and without confusion, yet 
not a minute too soon ! For the new line of gray is upon 
us in a mad tempest of lead, supported by a cruel ar- 
tillery fire, almost before our line can steady itself to 
receive the shock. However, partially protected by a 
post-and-rail fence, we answer fiercely, and with effect 
so terrific, that the enemy's line wavers, and at length 
moves off by the right flank, giving us a breathing 
space for a time. 

During this struggle, there had been many an exciting 
scene all along the line, as it swayed backward and for- 
ward over the field, — scenes which we have had no 
time to mention yet. 

321 



THE BOYS' BOOK OF BATTLES 

See yonder, where the colors of the regiment on our 
right — our sister regiment, the 149th — have been 
advanced a little, to draw the enemy's fire, while our 
line sweeps on to the charge. There ensues about the 
flags a wild melee and close hand-to-hand encounter. 
Some of the enemy have seized the colors and are making 
off with them in triumph, shouting victory. But a squad 
of our own regiment dashes out swiftly, led to the rescue 
of the stolen colors by Sergeant John C. Kensill, of Com- 
pany F, who falls to the ground before reaching them, 
and amid yells and cheers and smoke you see the battle 
flags rise and fall, and sway hither and thither upon 
the surging mass, as if tossed on the billows of a tem- 
pest, until, wrenched away by strong arms, they are 
borne back in triumph to the line of the 149th. 

See. yonder, again! Our colonel is clapping his hand 
to his cheek, from which a red stream is pouring; our 
lieutenant-colonel, Henry S. Huidekoper, is kneeling 
on the ground, and is having his handkerchief tied tight 
around his arm at the shoulder; Major Thomas Cham- 
berlain and Adjutant Richard L. Ashurst both lie low, 
pierced with balls through the chest; one lieutenant is 
waving his sword to his men, although his leg is crushed 
at the knee; three other officers of the line are lying 
over there, motionless now forever. All over the field 
are strewn men, wounded or dead, and comrades pause 
a moment in the mad rush to catch the last words of the 
dying. Incidents such as these the reader must imagine 
for himself, to fill in these swift sketches of how the day 
was won — and lost! 

Aye, lost! For the balls, which have so far come 
mainly from our front, begin now to sing in from our 

322 



A DRUMMER BOY AT GETTYSBURG 

left and right, which means that we are being flanked. 
Somehow, away off to our right, a half-mile or so, our 
line has given way, and is already on retreat through the 
town, while our left is being driven in, and we ourselves 
may shortly be surrounded and crushed — and so the 
retreat is sounded. 

Back now along the railroad cut we go, or through the 
orchard and the narrow strip of woods behind it, with 
our dead scattered around on all sides, and the wounded 
crying piteously for help. 

"Harry! Harry!" It is a faint cry of a dying man 
yonder in the grass, and I must see who it is. 

"Why, Willie! Tell me where you are hurt," I ask, 
kneeling down beside him; and I see the words come 
hard, for he is fast dying. 

"Here in my side, Harry. Tell — mother — 
mother — " 

Poor fellow, he can say no more. His head falls back, 
and Willie is at rest forever! 

On, now, through that strip of woods, at the other edge 
of which, with my back against a stout oak, I stop and 
look at a beautiful and thrilling sight. Some reserves 
are being brought up ; infantry in the center, the colors 
flying and oflicers shouting; cavalry on the right, with 
sabers flashing and horses on a trot; artillery on the left, 
with guns at full gallop sweeping into position to check 
the headlong pursuit, — it is a grand sight, and a fine 
rally; but a vain one, for in an hour we are swept off the 
field, and are in full retreat through the town. 

Up through the streets hurries the remnant of our 
shattered corps, while the enemy is pouring into the 
town only a few squares away from us. There is a tern- 



THE BOYS' BOOK OF BATTLES 

pest of shrieking shells and whistling balls about our ears. 
The guns of that battery by the woods we have dragged 
along, all the horses being disabled. The artillery men 
load as we go, double-charging with grape and canister. 

*'Make way there, men!" is the cry, and the surging 
mass crowds close up on the sidewalks to right and left, 
leaving a long lane down the center of the street, through 
which the grape and canister go rattling into the ranks 
of the enemy's advance guard. 

And so, amid scenes which I have neither space nor 
power to describe, we gain Cemetery Ridge toward 
sunset, and throw ourselves down by the road in a 
tumult of excitement and grief, having lost the day 
through the overwhelming force of numbers, and yet 
somehow having gained it, too, although as yet we know 
it not, for the sacrifice of our corps has saved the posi- 
tion for the rest of the army, which has been marching 
all day, and which comes pouring in over Cemetery 
Ridge all night long. 

Aye, the position is saved; but where is our corps? 
Well may our division general, Doubleday, who early 
in the day succeeded to the command, when our brave 
Reynolds had fallen, shed tears of grief as he sits there 
on his horse and looks over the shattered remains of that 
First Army Corps, for there is but a handful of it left. 
Of the five hundred and fifty men that marched under 
our regimental colors in the morning, but one hundred 
remain. All our field and staff ofiicers are gone. Of 
some twenty captains and lieutenants, but one is left 
without a scratch, while of my own company only 
thirteen out of fifty-four sleep that night on Cemetery 
Ridge, under the open canopy of heaven. There is no 

324 



GETTYSBURG FIFTY YEARS AFTER 



A DRUMMER BOY AT GETTYSBURG 

roll call, for Sergeant Weidensaul will call the roll no 
more; nor will Joe Gutelius, nor Joe Ruhl, nor Mc- 
Fadden, nor Henning, nor many others of our comrades 
whom we miss, ever answer to their names again until 
the world's last great reveille. 



FARRAGUT 

[Mobile Bay, August 5, 1864] 
BY WILLIAM TUCKEY MEREDITH 

Farragut, Farragut, 

Old Heart of Oak, 
Daring Dave Farragut, 

Thunderbolt stroke, 
Watches the hoary mist 

Lift from the bay, 
Till his flag, glory-kissed, 

Greets the young day. 

Far, by gray Morgan's walls. 

Looms the black fleet. 
Hark, deck to rampart calls 

With the drums' beat! 
Buoy your chains overboard. 

While the steam hums; 
Men! to the battlement, 

Farragut comes. 

See, as the hurricane 

Hurtles in wrath 
Squadrons of clouds amain 

Back from its path! 
Back to the parapet, 

To the guns' lips, 
326 



FARRAGUT 

Thunderbolt Farragut 
Hurls the black ships. 

Now through the battle's roar 

Clear the boy sings, 
"By the mark fathoms four," 
While his lead swings. 
Steady the wheelmen five 

*'Nor' by East keep her/' 
"Steady," but two alive: 
How the shells sweep her! 

Lashed to the mast that sways 

Over red decks, 
Over the flame that plays 

Round the torn wrecks. 
Over the dying lips 

Framed for a cheer, 
Farragut leads his ships, 

Guides the line clear. 

On by heights cannon-browed, 

While the spars quiver; 
Onward still flames the cloud 

Where the hulks shiver. 
See, yon fort's star is set, 

Storm and fire past. 
Cheer him, lads, — Farragut, 

Lashed to the mast! 

Oh ! while Atlantic's breast 
Bears a white sail, 

327 



THE BOYS' BOOK OF BATTLES 

While the Gulf's towering crest 

Tops a green vale, 
Men thy bold deeds shall tell, 

Old Heart of Oak, 
Daring Dave Farragut, 

Thunderbolt stroke! 



AN AUGUST MORNING WITH FARRAGUT 



THE FIGHT BEFORE SEDAN 

AN EPISODE OF THE FRANCO-PRUSSIAN WAR 

[1870] 

BY £mILE ZOLA 

It was nearly ten o'clock up on the Plateau de I'Algerie, 
and still the men of Beaudoin's company were resting 
supine, among the cabbages, in the field whence they 
had not budged since early morning. The cross fire from 
the batteries on Hattoy and the peninsula of Iges was 
hotter than ever; it had just killed two more of their 
number, and there were no orders for them to advance. 
Were they to stay there and be shelled all day, without 
a chance to see anything of the fighting? 

They were even denied the relief of discharging their 
chasse-pots. Captain Beaudoin had at last put his foot 
down and stopped the firing, that senseless fusillade 
against the little wood in front of them, which seemed 
entirely deserted by the Prussians. The heat was sti- 
fling; it seemed to them that they should roast, stretched 
there on the ground under the blazing sky. . . . 

Maurice's attention was attracted to the sick-bearers, 
whose movements he watched with interest as they 
searched for wounded men among the depressions of the 
ground. At the end of a sunken road, and protected by 
a low ridge not far from their position, a flying ambu- 
lance of first aid had been established, and its emissaries 
had begun to explore the plateau. A tent was quickly 
erected, while from the hospital van the attendants 

329 



THE BOYS' BOOK OF BATTLES 

extracted the necessary supplies; compresses, bandages, 
linen, and the few indispensable instruments required 
for the hasty dressings they gave before dispatching the 
patients to Sedan, which they did as rapidly as they 
could secure wagons, the supply of which was limited. 
There was an assistant surgeon in charge, with two 
subordinates of inferior rank under him. In all the 
army none showed more gallantry and received less 
acknowledgment than the Htter-bearers. They could be 
seen all over the field in their gray uniforms, with the 
distinctive red badges on their caps and on their arms, 
courageously risking their lives and unhurriedly pushing 
forward through the thickest of the fire to the spots 
where men had been seen to fall. At times they would 
creep on hands and knees; would always take advantage 
of a hedge or ditch, or any shelter that was afforded by 
the conformation of the ground, never exposing them- 
selves unnecessarily out of bravado. When at last they 
reached the fallen men their painful task commenced, 
which was made more difficult and protracted by the 
fact that many of the subjects had fainted, and it was 
hard to tell whether they were alive or dead. Some lay 
face downward with their mouths in a pool of blood, in 
danger of suffocating, others had bitten the ground until 
their throats were choked with dry earth, others, where 
a shell had fallen among a group, were a confused, inter- 
twined heap of mangled limbs and crushed trunks. 
With infinite care and patience the bearers would go 
through the tangled mass, separating the living from the 
dead, arranging their limbs and raising their heads to 
give them air, cleansing their faces as well as they 
could with the means at their command. Each of them 

330 



THE FIGHT BEFORE SEDAN 

carried a bucket of cool water, which he had to use very 
sparingly. And Maurice could see them thus engaged, 
often for minutes at a time, kneeling by some man 
whom they were trying to resuscitate, waiting for him 
to show some sign of life. 

He watched one of them, some fifty yards away to the 
left, w^orking over the wound of a little soldier from the 
sleeve of whose tunic a thin stream of blood was trick- 
ling, drop by drop. The man of the red cross discovered 
the source of the hemorrhage and finally checked it by 
compressing the artery. In urgent cases, like that of 
the Uttle soldier, they rendered these partial attentions, 
locating fractures, bandaging and immobilizing the 
limbs so as to reduce the danger of transportation. And 
the transportation, even, was an affair that called for 
a great deal of judgment and ingenuity; they assisted 
those who could walk, and carried others, either in their 
arms, like little children, or pickaback when the nature 
of the hurt allowed it; at other times they united in 
groups of two, three, or four, according to the require- 
ments of the case, and made a chair by joining their 
hands, or carried the patient off by his legs and shoul- 
ders in a recumbent posture. In addition to the stretch- 
ers provided by the medical department there were all 
sorts of temporary makeshifts, such as the stretchers 
improvised from knapsack straps and a couple of mus- 
kets. And in every direction on the unsheltered, shell- 
swept plain they could be seen, singly or in groups, 
hastening with their dismal loads to the rear, their heads 
bowed and picking thek steps, an admirable spectacle 
of prudent heroism. 

Maurice saw a pair on his right, a thin, puny little 

331 



THE BOYS' BOOK OF BATTLES 

fellow lugging a burly sergeant, with both legs broken, 
suspended from his neck; the sight reminded the young 
man of an ant toiling under a burden many times larger 
than itself; and even as he watched them a shell burst 
directly in their path and they were lost to view. When 
the smoke cleared away the sergeant was seen lying on 
his back, having received no further injury, while the 
bearer lay beside him, disemboweled. And another 
came up, another toiling ant, who, when he had turned 
his dead comrade on his back and examined him, took 
the sergeant up and made off with his load. . . . 

At last the two batteries of reserve artillery came up. 
Their arrival was an immense relief to the anxiously 
expectant men, as if the guns were to be a rampart of 
protection to them and at the same time demolish the 
hostile batteries that were thundering against them 
from every side. And then, too, it was in itself an exhil- 
arating spectacle to see the magnificent order they pre- 
served as they came dashing up, each gun followed by 
its caisson, the drivers seated on the near horse and 
holding the off horse by the bridle, the cannoneers bolt 
upright on the chests, the chiefs of detachment riding in 
their proper position on the flank. Distances were pre- 
served as accurately as if they were on parade, and all 
the time they were tearing across the fields at headlong 
speed, with the roar and crash of a hurricane. 

Maurice, who had lain down again, arose and said to 
Jean in great excitement : — 

"Look! over there on the left, that is Honore's bat- 
tery. I can recognize the men." 

Jean gave him a back-handed blow that brought him 
down to his recumbent position. 

332 



THE FIGHT BEFORE SEDAN 

"Lie down, will you! and make believe dead!" 

But they were both deeply interested in watching the 
maneuvers of the battery, and never once removed their 
eyes from it; it cheered their heart to witness the cool 
and intrepid activity of those men, who, they hoped, 
might yet bring victory to them. 

The battery had wheeled into position on a bare sum- 
mit to the left, where it brought up all standing; then, 
quick as a flash, the cannoneers leaped from the chests 
and unhooked the limbers, and the drivers, leaving the 
guns in position, drove fifteen yards to the rear, where 
they wheeled again so as to bring teams and limbers face 
to the enemy and there remained, motionless as statues. 
In less time than it takes to tell it the guns were in 
place, with the proper intervals between them, distrib- 
uted into three sections of two guns each, each section 
commanded by a lieutenant — and over the whole a 
captain, a long ma3^ole of a man, who made a ter- 
ribly conspicuous landmark on the plateau. And this 
captain, having first made a brief calculation, was heard 
to shout : — 

"Sight for sixteen hundred yards!" 

Their fire was to be directed upon a Prussian battery, 
screened by some bushes, to the left of Fleigneux, the 
shells from which were rendering the position of the Cal- 
vary untenable. 

"Honore's piece, you see," Maurice began again, 
whose excitement was such that he could not keep still. 
"Honore's piece is in the center section. There he is 
now, bending over to speak to the gunner; you remember 
Louis, the gunner, don't you? — the little fellow with 
whom we had a drink at Vouziers? And that fellow in 

333 



THE BOYS' BOOK OF BATTLES 

the rear, who sits so straight on his handsome chestnut, 
is Adolphe, the driver — " 

First came the gun with its chief and six cannoneers, 
then the Hmber with its four horses ridden by two men, 
beyond that the caisson with its six horses and three 
drivers, still farther to the rear were the prolonge, forge, 
and battery wagon; and this array of men, horses and 
material extended to the rear in a straight unbroken line 
of more than a hundred yards in length; to say nothing 
of the spare caisson and the men and beasts who were to 
fill the places of those removed by casualties, who were 
stationed at one side, as much as possible out of the 
enemy's line of fire. 

And now Honore was attending to the loading of his 
gun. The two men whose duty it was to fetch the cart- 
ridge and the projectile returned from the caisson, where 
the corporal and the artificer were stationed ; two other 
cannoneers, standing at the muzzle of the piece, slipped 
into the bore the cartridge, a charge of powder in an 
envelope of serge, and gently drove it home with the 
rammer, then in like manner introduced the shell, the 
studs of which creaked faintly in the spirals of the rifling. 
When the primer was inserted in the vent and all was in 
readiness, Honore thought he would like to point the 
gun himself for the first shot, and throwing himself in a 
semi-recumbent posture on the trail, working with one 
hand the screw that regulated the elevation, with the 
other he signaled continually to the gunner, who, stand- 
ing behind him, moved the piece by imperceptible de- 
grees to right or left with the assistance of the lever. 

"That ought to be about right," he said as he arose. 

The captain came up, and stooping until his long 

334 



THE FIGHT BEFORE SEDAN 

body was bent almost double, verified the elevation. 
At each gun stood the assistant gunner, waiting to pull 
the lanyard that should ignite the fulminate by means of 
a serrated wire. And the orders were given in succession, 
deliberately, by number: — ■ 

"Number one, Fire! Number two, Fire!" 

Six reports were heard, the guns recoiled, and while 
they were brought back to position the chiefs of detach- 
ment observed the effect of the shots and found that the 
range was short. They made the necessary correction 
and the evolution was repeated, in exactly the same 
manner as before; and it was that cool precision, that 
mechanical routine of duty, without agitation and with- 
out haste, that did so much to maintain the morale of 
the men. They were a little family, united by the tie of 
a common occupation, grouped around the gun, which 
they loved and reverenced as if it had been a living 
thing; it was the object of all their care and attention, to 
it all else was subservient, men, horses, caisson, every- 
thing. Thence also arose the spirit of unity and cohesion 
that animated the battery at large, making all its mem- 
bers work together for the common glory and the com- 
mon good, like a well-regulated household. 

The io6th had cheered lustily at the completion of 
the first round; they were going to make those bloody 
Prussian guns shut their mouths at last ! but their elation 
was succeeded by dismay when it was seen that the 
projectiles fell short, many of them bursting in the air 
and never reaching the bushes that served to mask the 
enemy's artillery. 

"Honore," Maurice continued, "says that all the 
other pieces are popguns and that his old girl is the only 

335 



THE BOYS' BOOK OF BATTLES 

one that is good for anything. Ah, his old girl! He talks 
as if she were his wife and there were not another like her 
in the world ! Just notice how jealously he watches her 
and makes the men clean her off ! I suppose he is afraid 
she will overheat herself and take cold!" 

He continued rattling on in this pleasant vein to Jean, 
both of them cheered and encouraged by the cool 
braver}' with which the artillerymen served their guns; 
but the Prussian batteries, after firing three rounds, had 
now got the range, which, too long at the beginning, 
they had at last ciphered down to such a fine point that 
their shells were landed invariably among the French 
pieces, while the latter, notwithstanding the efforts that 
were made to increase their range, still continued to 
place their projectiles short of the enemy's position. 
One of Honore's cannoneers was killed while loading the 
piece; the others pushed the body out of their way, and 
the service went on with the same methodical precision, 
with neither more nor less haste. In the midst of the 
projectiles that fell and burst continually the same un- 
varying rhythmical movements went on uninterrupt- 
edly about the gun; the cartridge and shell were intro- 
duced, the gun was pointed, the lanyard pulled, the 
carriage brought back to place; and all with such unde- 
viating regularity that the men might have been taken 
for automatons, devoid of sight and hearing. 

What impressed Maurice, however, more than any- 
thing else, was the attitude of the drivers, sitting 
straight and stiff in their saddles fifteen yards to the 
rear, face to the enemy. There was Adolphe, the broad- 
chested, with his big blond mustache across his rubi- 
cund face; and who shall tell the amount of courage a 

336 



THE FIGHT BEFORE SEDAN 

man must have to enable him to sit without winking and 
watch the shells coming toward him, and he not allowed 
even to twirl his thumbs by way of diversion ! The men 
who served the guns had something to occupy their 
minds, while the drivers, condemned to immobility, had 
death constantly before their eyes, and plenty of leisure 
to speculate on probabilities. They were made to face 
the battle-field because, had they turned their backs to 
it, the coward that so often lurks at the bottom of man's 
nature might have got the better of them and swept 
away man and beast. It is the unseen danger that makes 
dastards of us; that which we can see, we brave. The 
army has no more gallant set of men in its ranks than 
the drivers in their obscure position. 

Another man had been killed, two horses of a caisson 
had been disemboweled, and the enemy kept up such a 
murderous fire that there was a prospect of the entire 
battery being knocked to pieces should they persist in 
holding that position longer. It was time to take some 
step to baffle that tremendous fire, notwithstanding the 
danger there was in moving, and the captain unhesita- 
tingly gave orders to bring up the limbers. 

The risky maneuver was executed with lightning 
speed; the drivers came up at a gallop, wheeled their 
limbers into position in rear of the guns, when the can- 
noneers raised the trails of the pieces and hooked on. The 
movement, however, collecting as it did, momentarily, 
men and horses on the battery front in something of a 
huddle, created a certain degree of confusion, of which 
the enemy took advantage by increasing the rapidity of 
their fire; three more men dropped. The teams darted 
away at breakneck speed, describing an arc of a circle 

337 



THE BOYS' BOOK OF BATTLES 

among the fields, and the battery took up its new posi- 
tion some fifty or sixty yards more to the right, on a 
gentle eminence that was situated on the other flank of 
the io6th. The pieces were unlimbered, the drivers 
resumed their stations at the rear, face to the enemy, and 
the firing was reopened; and so little time was lost 
between leaving their old post and taking up the new 
that the earth had barely ceased to tremble under the 
concussion. 

Maurice uttered a cry of dismay, when, after three 
attempts, the Prussians had again got their range; the 
first shell landed squarely on Honore's gun. The artil- 
leryman rushed forward, and with a trembling hand felt 
to ascertain what damage had been done his pet; a great 
wedge had been chipped from the bronze muzzle. But it 
was not disabled, and the work went on as before, after 
they had removed from beneath the wheels the body of 
another cannoneer, with whose blood the entire carriage 
was besplashed. 

"It was not little Louis; I am glad of that," said 
Maurice, continuing to think aloud. "There he is now, 
pointing his gun; he must be wounded, though, for he 
is only using his left arm. Ah, he is a brave lad, is little 
Louis; and how well he and Adolphe get on together, in 
spite of their little tiffs, only provided the gunner, the 
man who serves on foot, shows a proper amount of 
respect for the driver, the man who rides a horse, not- 
withstanding that the latter is by far the more ignorant 
of the two. Now that they are under fire, though, Louis 
is as good a man as Adolphe — " 

Jean, who had been watching events in silence, gave 
utterance to a distressful cry: — 

338 



THE FIGHT BEFORE SEDAN 

"They will have to give it up ! No troops in the world 
could stand such a fire." 

Within the space of five minutes the second position 
had become as untenable as was the first; the projectiles 
kept falling with the same persistency, the same deadly 
precision. A shell dismounted a gun, fracturing the 
chase, killing a Heutenant and two men. Not one of the 
enemy's shots failed to reach, and at each discharge they 
secured a still greater accuracy of range, so that if the 
battery should remain there another five minutes they 
would not have a gun or a man left. The crushing 
fire threatened to wipe them all out of existence. 

Again the captain's ringing voice was heard ordering 
up the limbers. The drivers dashed up at a gallop and 
wheeled their teams into place to allow the cannoneers 
to hook on the guns, but before Adolphe had time to get 
up Louis was struck by a fragment of shell that tore 
open his throat and broke his jaw ; he fell across the trail 
of the carriage just as he was on the point of raising it. 
Adolphe was there instantly, and beholding his pros- 
trate comrade weltering in his blood, jumped from his 
horse and was about to raise him to the saddle and bear 
him away. And at that moment, just as the battery 
was exposed flank to the enemy in the act of wheeling, 
offering a fair target, a crashing discharge came, and 
Adolphe reeled and fell to the ground, his chest crushed 
in, with arms wide extended. In his supreme convul- 
sion he seized his comrade about the body, and thus 
they lay, locked in each other's arms in a last embrace, 
'' married" even in death. 

Notwithstanding the slaughtered horses and the con- 
fusion that that death-dealing discharge had caused 

339 



THE BOYS' BOOK OF BATTLES 

among the men, the battery had rattled up the slope 
of a hillock and taken post a few yards from the spot 
where Jean and Maurice were lying. For the third time 
the guns were unlimbered, the drivers retired to the 
rear and faced the enemy, and the cannoneers, with a 
gallantry that nothing could daunt, at once reopened 
fire. 

''It is as if the end of all things were at hand!" said 
Maurice, the sound of whose voice was lost in the up- 
roar. 

It seemed indeed as if heaven and earth were con- 
founded in that hideous din. Great rocks were cleft 
asunder, the sun was hid from sight at times in clouds 
of sulphurous vapor. When the cataclysm w^as at its 
height the horses stood with drooping heads, trembling, 
dazed with terror. The captain's tall form was every- 
where upon the eminence; suddenly he was seen no 
more; a shell had cut him clean in two, and he sank, as 
a ship's mast that is snapped off at the base. 

But it was about Honore's gun, even more than the 
others, that the conflict raged, with cool efhciency and 
obstinate determination. The non-commissioned officer 
found it necessary to forget his chevrons for the time 
being and lend a hand in working the piece, for he had 
now but three cannoneers left; he pointed the gun and 
pulled the lanyard, while the others brought ammuni- 
tion from the caisson, loaded, and handled the rammer 
and the sponge. He had sent for men and horses from 
the battery reserves that were kept to supply the places 
of those removed by casualties, but they were slow in 
coming, and in the mean time the survivors must do the 
work of the dead. It was a great discouragement to all 

340 



THE FIGHT BEFORE SEDAN 

that their projectiles ranged short and burst ahnost 
without exception in the air, inflicting no injury on the 
powerful batteries of the foe, the fire of which was so 
efficient. And suddenly Honore let slip an oath that 
was heard above the thunder of the battle; ill-luck, ill- 
luck, nothing but ill-luck! the right wheel of his piece 
was smashed ! Tonnerre de Dieu ! what a state she was 
in, the poor darling! stretched on her side with a broken 
paw, her nose buried in the ground, crippled and good 
for nothing ! The sight brought big tears to his eyes, he 
laid his trembling hand upon the breech, as if the ardor 
of his love might avail to warm his dear mistress back 
to life. And the best gun of them all, the only one that 
had been able to drop a few shells among the enemy! 
Then suddenly he conceived a daring project, nothing 
less than to repair the injury there and then, under that 
terrible fire. Assisted by one of his men he ran back to 
the caisson and secured the spare wheel that was at- 
tached to the rear axle, and then commenced the most 
dangerous operation that can be executed on a battle- 
field. Fortunately the extra men and horses that he had 
sent for came up just then, and he had two cannoneers 
to lend him a hand. 

For the third time, however, the strength of the bat- 
tery was so reduced as practically to disable it. To push 
their heroic daring further would be madness; the order 
was given to abandon the position definitely. 

" Make haste, comrades ! " Honore exclaimed. " Even 
if she is fit for no further service we '11 carry her off; those 
fellows shan't have her!" 

To save the gun, even as men risk their lives to save 
the flag; that was his idea. And he had not ceased to 

341 



THE BOYS' BOOK OF BATTLES 

speak when he was stricken down as by a thunderbolt, 
his right arm torn from its socket, his left flank laid 
open. He had fallen upon his gun he loved so well, and 
lay there as if stretched on a bed of honor, with head 
erect, his unmutilated face turned toward the enemy, 
and bearing an expression of proud defiance that made 
him beautiful in death. From his torn jacket a letter 
had fallen to the ground and lay in the pool of blood 
that dribbled slowly from above. 

The only lieutenant left alive shouted the order: — 

"Bring up the limbers!" 

A caisson had exploded with a roar that rent the skies. 
They were obliged to take the horses from another cais- 
son in order to save the gun of which the team had been 
killed. And when, for the last time, the drivers had 
brought up their smoking horses and the guns had been 
limbered up, the whole battery flew away at a gallop 
and never stopped until they reached the edge of the 
wood of La Garenne, nearly twelve hundred yards away. 

Maurice had seen the whole. He shivered with hor- 
ror, and murmured mechanically, in a faint voice: — 

"Oh! poor fellow, poor fellow!" 

In addition to this feeling of mental distress he had 
a horrible sensation of physical suffering, as if some- 
thing was gnawing at his vitals. It was the animal por- 
tion of his nature asserting itself; he was at the end of 
his endurance, was ready to sink with hunger. His per- 
ceptions were dimmed, he was not even conscious of the 
dangerous position the regiment was in now it was no 
longer protected by the battery. It was more than 
likely that the enemy would not long delay to attack 
the plateau in force. 

342 



THE FIGHT BEFORE SEDAN 

"Look here," he said to Jean, "I must eat — if I am 
to be killed for it the next minute, I must eat." 

He opened his knapsack and, taking out the bread 
with shaking hands, set his teeth in it voraciously. The 
bullets were whistling above their heads, two shells ex- 
ploded only a few yards away, but all was as naught to 
him in comparison with his craving hunger, 

"Will you have some, Jean?" 

The corporal was watching him with hungry eyes and 
a stupid expression on his face; his stomach was also 
twinging him. 

"Yes, I don't care if I do; this suffering is more than 
I can stand." 

They divided the loaf between them and each de- 
voured his portion gluttonously, unmindful of what was 
going on about them so long as a crumb remained. And 
it was at that time that they saw their colonel for the 
last, time, sitting his big horse, with his blood-stained 
boot. The regiment was surrounded on every side; al- 
ready some of the companies had left the field. Then, 
unable longer to restrain their flight, with tears standing 
in his eyes and raising his sword above his head : — 

"My children," cried M. de Vineuil, "I commend 
you to the protection of God, who thus far has spared 
us all!" 

He rode off down the hill, surrounded by a swarm of 
fugitives, and vanished from their sight. 

Then, they knew not how, Maurice and Jean found 
themselves once more behind the hedge, with the rem- 
nant of their company. Some forty men at the outside 
were all that remained, with Lieutenant Rochas as their 
commander, and the regimental standard was with 

343 



THE BOYS' BOOK OF BATTLES 

them; the subaltern who carried it had furled the silk 
about the staff in order to try to save it. They made 
their way along the hedge, as far as it extended, to a 
cluster of small trees upon a hillside, where Rochas 
made them halt and reopen fire. The men, dispersed 
in skirmishing order and sufficiently protected, could 
hold their ground, the more that an important cavalry 
movement was in preparation on their right and regi- 
ments of infantry were being brought up to support it. 

It was at that moment that Maurice comprehended 
the full scope of that mighty, irresistible turning move- 
ment that was now drawing near completion. That 
morning he had watched the Prussians debouching by 
the Saint-Albert pass and had seen their advanced guard 
pushed forward, first to Saint-Menges, then to Fleigneux, 
and now, behind the wood of La Garenne, he could 
hear the thunder of the artillery of the Guard, could 
behold other German uniforms arriving on the scene 
over the hills of Givonne. Yet a few moments, it might 
be, and the circle would be complete; the Guard would 
join hands with the Fifth Corps, surrounding the French 
army with a living wall, girdling them about with a belt 
of flaming artillery. It was with the resolve to make 
one supreme, desperate effort, to try to hew a passage 
through that advancing wall, that General Margueritte's 
division of the reserve cavalry was massing behind a 
protecting crest preparatory to charging. They were 
about to charge into the jaws of death, with no possi- 
bility of achieving any useful result, solely for the glory 
of France and the French army. And Maurice, whose 
thoughts turned to Prosper, was a witness of the terrible 
spectacle. 

344 



THE FIGHT BEFORE SEDAN 

What between the messages that were given him to 
carry and their answers, Prosper had been kept busy 
since daybreak spurring up and down the plateau of 
Illy. The cavalrymen had been awakened at peep of 
dawn, man by man, without sound of trumpet, and to 
make their morning coffee had devised the ingenious 
expedient of screening their fire with a greatcoat so as 
not to attract the attention of the enemy. Then there 
came a period when they were left entirely to them- 
selves, with nothing to occupy them; they seemed to 
be forgotten by their cannoneers. They could hear the 
sound of the cannonading, could descry the puffs of 
smoke, could see the distant movements of the infantry, 
but were utterly ignorant of the battle, its importance, 
and its results. Prosper, as far as he was concerned, was 
suffering from want of sleep. The cumulative fatigue 
induced by many nights of broken rest, the invincible 
somnolency caused by the easy gait of his mount, made 
life a burden. He dreamed dreams and saw visions; 
now he was sleeping comfortably in a bed between clean 
sheets; now snoring on the bare ground among sharp- 
ened flints. For minutes at a time he would actually be 
sound asleep in his saddle, a lifeless clod, his steed's 
intelligence answering for both. Under such circum- 
stances comrades had often tumbled from their seats 
upon the road. They were so fagged that when they 
slept the trumpets no longer awakened them; the only 
way to rouse them from their lethargy and get them on 
their feet was to kick them soundly. 

"But what are they going to do, what are they going 
to do with us?" Prosper kept saying to himself. It was 
the only thing he could think of to keep himself awake. 

345 



THE BOYS' BOOK OF BATTLES 

For six hours the cannon had been thundering. As 
they climbed a hill two comrades, riding at his side, had 
been struck down by a shell, and as they rode onward 
seven or eight others had bit the dust, pierced by rifle- 
balls that came no one could say whence. It was be- 
coming tiresome, that slow parade, as useless as it was 
dangerous, up and down the battle-field. At last — it 
was about one o'clock — he learned that it had been 
decided they were to be killed off in a somewhat more 
decent manner. Margueritte's entire division, compris- 
ing three regiments of chasseurs de France, and one 
of hussars, had been drawn in and posted in a shallow 
valley a little to the south of the Calvary of Illy. The 
trumpets had sounded: "Dismount!" and then the 
officers' command ran down the line to tighten girths 
and look to packs. 

Prosper alighted, stretched his cramped limbs, and 
gave Zephyr a friendly pat upon the neck . Poor Zephyr ! 
he felt the degradation of the ignominious, heartbreak- 
ing service they were subjected to almost as keenly as 
his master; and not only that, but he had to carry a small 
arsenal of stores and implements of various kinds; the 
holsters stuffed with his master's linen and undercloth- 
ing and the greatcoat rolled above, the stable suit, 
blouse, and overalls, and the sack containing brushes, 
currycomb, and other articles of equine toilet behind 
the saddle, the haversack with rations slung at his side, 
to say nothing of such trifles as side-lines and picket- 
pins, the watering bucket and the wooden basin. The 
cavalryman's tender heart was stirred by a feeling of 
compassion, as he tightened up the girth and looked 
to see that everything was secure in its place. 

346 



THE FIGHT BEFORE SEDAN 

It was a trying moment. Prosper was no more a 
coward than the next man, but his mouth was intoler- 
ably dry and hot; he lit a cigarette in the hope that it 
would relieve the unpleasant sensation. When about to 
charge no man can assert with any degree of certainty 
that he will ride back again. The suspense lasted some 
five or six minutes; it was said that General Margue- 
ritte had ridden forward to reconnoiter the ground over 
which they were to charge ; they were awaiting his re- 
turn. The five regiments had been formed in three col- 
umns, each column having a depth of seven squadrons; 
enough to afford an ample meal to the hostile guns. 

Presently the trumpets rang out: "To horse!" and 
this was succeeded almost immediately by the shrill 
summons: "Draw sabers!" 

The colonel of each regiment had previously ridden 
out and taken his proper position, twenty-five yards 
to the front, the captains were all at their posts at the 
head of their squadrons. Then there was another period 
of anxious waiting, amid a silence heavy as that of 
death. Not a sound, not a breath, there, beneath the 
blazing sun, nothing, save the beating of those brave 
hearts. One order more, the supreme, the decisive one, 
and that mass, now so inert and motionless, would be- 
come a resistless tornado, sweeping all before it. 

At that juncture, however, an officer appeared coming 
over the crest of the hill in front, wounded, and preserv- 
ing his seat in the saddle only by the assistance of a man 
on either side. No one recognized him at first, but 
presently a deep, ominous murmur begain to run from 
squadron to squadron, which quickly swelled into a 
furious uproar. It was General Margueritte, who had 

347 



THE BOYS' BOOK OF BATTLES 

received a wound from which he died a few days later; 
a musket-ball had passed through both cheeks, carry- 
ing away a portion of the tongue and palate. He was 
incapable of speech, but waved his arm in the direction 
of the enemy. The fury of his men knew no bounds; 
their cries rose louder still upon the air. 

"It is our general! Avenge him, avenge him!" 

Then the colonel of the first regiment, raising aloft 
his saber, shouted in a voice of thunder : — 

''Charge!" 

The trumpets sounded, the column broke into a trot 
and was away. Prosper was in the leading squadron, 
but almost at the extreme right of the right wing, a 
position of less danger than the center, upon which the 
enemy always naturally concentrate their hottest fire. 
When they had topped the summit of the Calvary and 
began to descend the slope beyond that led downward 
into the broad plain he had a distinct view, some two- 
thirds of a mile away, of the Prussian squares that were 
to be the object of their attack. Beside that vision all 
the rest was dim and confused before his eyes; he moved 
onward as one in a dream, with a strange ringing in his 
ears, a sensation of voidness in his mind that left him 
incapable of framing an idea. He was a part of the great 
engine that tore along, controlled by a superior will. 
The command ran along the line: "Keep touch of knees! 
Keep touch of knees!" in order to keep the men closed 
up and give their ranks the resistance and rigidity of a 
wall of granite; and as their trot became swifter and 
swifter and finally broke into a mad gallop, the chas- 
seurs d'Afrique gave their wild Arab cry that excited 
their wiry steeds to the verge of frenzy. Onward they 

348 



THE FIGHT BEFORE SEDAN 

tore, faster and faster still, until their gallop was a race 
of unchained demons, their shouts the shrieks of souls 
in mortal agony ; onward they plunged amid a storm of 
bullets that rattled on casque and breastplate, on buckle 
and scabbard, with a sound like hail; into the bosom 
of that hailstorm flashed that thunderbolt beneath 
which the earth shook and trembled, leaving behind it, 
as it passed, an odor of burned woolen and the exhala- 
tions of wild beasts. 

At five hundred yards the line wavered an instant, 
then swirled and broke in a frightful eddy that brought 
Prosper to the ground. He clutched Zephyr by the mane 
and succeeded in recovering his seat. The center had 
given way, riddled, almost annihilated as it was by the 
musketry fire, while the two wings had wheeled and 
ridden back a little way to renew their formation. It 
was the foreseen, foredoomed destruction of the leading 
squadron. Disabled horses covered the ground, some 
quiet in death, but many struggling violently in their 
strong agony; and ever3rwhere dismounted riders could 
be seen, running as fast as their short legs would let 
them, to capture other mounts for themselves. Many 
horses that had lost their masters came galloping back to 
the squadron and took their places in line of their own 
accord, to rush with their comrades back into the fire 
again, as if there was some strange attraction for them 
in the smell of gunpowder. The charge was resumed; 
the second squadron went forward, like the first, at a 
constantly accelerated rate of speed, the men bending 
upon their horses' necks, holding the sabers along the 
thighs, ready for use upon the enemy. Two hundred 
yards more were gained this time, amid the thunderous, 

349 



THE BOYS' BOOK OF BATTLES 

deafening uproar, but again the center broke under the 
storm of bullets; men and horses went down in heaps, 
and the piled corpses made an insurmountable barrier 
for those who followed. Thus was the second ^squadron 
in its turn mown down, annihilated, leaving its task to 
be accomplished by those who came after. 

When for the third time the men were called upon to 
charge and responded with invincible heroism, Prosper 
found that his companions were principally hussars 
and chasseurs de France. Regiments and squadrons, as 
organizations, had ceased to exist; their constituent 
elements were drops in the mighty wave that alternately 
broke and reared its crest again, to swallow up all that 
lay in its destructive path. He had long since lost dis- 
tinctive consciousness of what was going on around 
him, and suffered his movements to be guided by his 
mount, faithful Zephyr, who had received a wound in 
the ear that seemed to madden him. He was now in the 
center, where all about him horses were rearing, pawing 
the air, and falling backward ; men were dismounted as 
if torn from their saddles by the blast of a tornado, while 
others, shot through some vital part, retained their seats 
and rode onward in the ranks with vacant, sightless 
eyes. And looking back over the' additional two hun- 
dred yards that this effort had won for them, they could 
see the field of yellow stubble strewn thick with dead and 
dying. Some there were who had fallen headlong from 
their saddles and buried their faces in the soft earth. 
Others had alighted on their backs, and were staring 
up into the s\m with terror-stricken eyes that seemed 
bursting from their sockets. There was a handsome 
black horse, an officer's charger, that had been disem- 

350 



THE FIGHT BEFORE SEDAN 

boweled, and was making frantic efforts to rise, his fore 
feet entangled in his entrails. Beneath the fire, that 
became constantly more murderous as they drew nearer, 
the survivors in the wings wheeled their horses and fell 
back to concentrate their strength for a fresh onset. 

Finally it was the fourth squadron, which, on the 
fourth attempt, reached the Prussian lines. Prosper 
made play with his saber, hacking away at helmets and 
dark uniforms as well as he could distinguish them, for 
all was dim before him, as in a dense mist. Blood flowed 
in torrents; Zephyr's mouth was smeared with it, and 
to account for it he said to himself that the good horse 
must have been using his teeth on the Prussians. The 
clamor around him became so great that he could not 
hear his own voice, although his throat seemed splitting 
from the yells that issued from it. But behind the first 
Prussian line there was another, and then another, and 
then another still. Their gallant efforts went for noth- 
ing ; those dense masses of men were like a tangled jungle 
that closed around the horses and riders who entered it 
and buried them in its rank growths. They might hew 
down those who were within reach of their sabers ; others 
stood ready to take their places, the last squadrons 
were lost and swallowed up in their vast numbers. The 
firing, at point-blank range, was so furious that the 
men's clothing was ignited. Nothing could stand before 
it, all went down; and the work that it left unfinished 
was completed by bayonet and musket butt. Of the 
brave men who rode into action that day two-thirds re- 
mained upon the battle-field, and the sole end achieved 
by that mad charge was to add another glorious page 
to history. And then Zephyr, struck by a musket-ball 

351 



THE BOYS' BOOK OF BATTLES 

full in the chest, dropped in a heap, crushing beneath 
him Prosper's right thigh; and the pain was so acute 
that the young man fainted. 

Maurice and Jean, who had watched the gallant ef- 
fort with burning interest, uttered an exclamation of 
rage. 

^'Tonnere de Dieii! what bravery wasted!" 
And they resumed their firing from among the trees 
of the low hill where they were deployed in skirmishing 
order. Rochas himself had picked up an abandoned 
musket and was blazing away with the rest. But the 
plateau of Illy was lost to them by this time beyond 
hope of recovery; the Prussians were pouring in upon 
it from every quarter. It was somewhere in the neigh- 
borhood of two o'clock, and their great movement was 
accomplished; the Fifth Corps and the Guards had 
effected their junction, the investment of the French 
army was complete. 



GERMAN WOUNDED IN THE GALLERY OF 
MIRRORS, VERSAILLES 



THE INDIAN STORY OF CUSTER'S LAST 
FIGHT 

[1877I 
BY JAMES Mclaughlin 

In the first place Mrs. Spotted Horn Bull was there — 
which is more than can be said for some of the other 
ladies and gentlemen who have told of the events of that 
dreadful day when Custer led his gallant fellows into 
the jaws of death and worse. She was not then carried 
on the rolls of the Indian Department as Mrs. Spotted 
Horn Bull. A more imaginative sponsor than the 
Indian Agent had given her the more euphonious and, 
let us hope, more correctly descriptive appellation of 
Pte-San- Waste- Win. Twenty-eight years ago, when she 
first came to the agency at Standing Rock, when Spotted 
Horn Bull, who was killed with Sitting Bull, was still 
in the land of the living Dakotas, she was a strikingly 
good-looking Indian woman, and much esteemed by 
her neighbors for her intelligence and capacity. She had 
also the gift of eloquence, rare in an Indian woman, and 
a fluency in lanugage and readiness of gesture which 
placed her high in the esteem of her story-loving tribes- 
men. 

And many a big man among the Sioux had been con- 
tent to hold his peace when Pte-San- Waste- Win raised 
her voice. Not that the voice was raucous or that 
Beautiful White Cow (the English rendition of her 
name) was a scold. I have heard a story that she on one 

353 



THE BOYS' BOOK OF BATTLES 

occasion man-handled a big chief of the Sioux Nation 
who she learned had maligned her, and that the man- 
handling followed his remark: "Woman, be silent; you 
have the mouth of a white man." And knowing Mrs. 
Spotted Horn Bull as I do, I have never doubted the 
verity of the incident so far as her attack was con- 
cerned. 

She is now a sturdy, upstanding woman of sixty to 
sixty-five years of age, born of the Hunkpapa Sioux, a 
band that has provided the nation with many of its 
noted men. She was handsome, according to the Indian 
canons of taste, in her youth, and indeed I am not sure 
that the Indian taste in these matters might not well 
be accepted by some more advanced peoples. She was 
married in early youth to Spotted Horn Bull, a chief of 
his band and a man of prominence as a warrior and 
adviser, but no orator. She appears to have brought to 
the family the attributes in which her husband was 
lacking, for she sat in coimcil of her tribe — and I know 
of no other Indian woman of her nation who was so sig- 
nally honored. Her voice was always listened to, for, 
in addition to her gift of eloquence, she was a clear 
thinker, and could make effective the ideas of her silent 
husband. Since she became a widow, and the Sioux no 
longer hold councils, her neighbors seek her advice in 
business matters. She has steadfastly refused to accept 
Christianity, though she has listened to all the argu- 
ments that have been made to her. She elects to cling 
to the beliefs of her fathers — a fact that does not at all 
detract from the esteem in which the missionaries hold 
her. 

A few months ago I met Mrs. Spotted Horn Bull by 

354 



INDIAN STORY OF CUSTER'S LAST FIGHT 

appointment at my son Harry's trading store, located 
at Oak Creek, on the Standing Rock Reservation. She 
had come in fifteen miles from her home on the Missouri 
River, near the mouth of Oak Creek, for the meeting. 
I was accompanied by a friend, and she greeted us with 
the effusive welcome of her people — as different as 
possible in its warmth and volubility from the greeting 
one not acquainted intimately with the Sioux might 
expect. She was a striking figure as she stood up to 
greet us. 

This historian and poetess of the Sioux wore the 
ordinary costume of a woman of her people, but her 
gingham dress was of the Campbell plaid, her shawl- 
blanket of native make, her moccasins, neat, her jetty 
hair falling in two braids on each side of a smiling and 
expressive countenance. She looked a much younger 
woman than she really was — and by way of demon- 
strating that she still felt young, she danced a few steps, 
laughingly declaring that she had met and danced with 
many prominent people. It was after a substantial 
supper, to which Mrs. Spotted Horn Bull did full justice, 
that we sat down in my son's Uttle parlor and listened 
to her story of the affair on the Little Big Horn. 

I have always deplored the fact that English writers 
have never been able to render in their native elegance 
and appositeness the similes used by Indian orators and 
story-tellers. I now deplore the lack of that same ca- 
pacity in myself. Mrs. Spotted Horn Bull exhausted 
the stores of her flowery vocabulary in the relation we 
listened to. She talked with great fluency, her voice 
pitched to a sort of breathless stage of excited feeling. 
I remember hearing a young woman declaim the Chorus 

355 



THE BOYS' BOOK OF BATTLES 

in "Henry V," put on by an American actor-manager 
a few years ago; the Sioux story-teller reminded me of 
the actress. She illustrated her every sentence in panto- 
mime, and when she feared that she had not pictured 
the scene her memory brought up, she seized a pencil 
and paper and drew a sketch of the valley of the Little 
Big Horn, showing the location of the Indian village on 
the west bank, the distribution of the bands of the 
Sioux, the points of attack by Custer and Reno, and the 
fatal hill, now marked by a monument, where Custer 
fell. This sketch she used constantly to explain her 
meaning, and she was perfectly frank about the occur- 
rences of June 25, 1876, except on one point. She ignored 
all questions as to the whereabouts of Sitting Bull during 
the fight. Skillfully avoiding the interrogation, or totally 
ignoring it, she made many excursions into Sioux his- 
tory of that time; but Sitting Bull, her kinsman, who 
skulked in the hills while his people were carrying out 
the annihilation of the troops, she would not speak of. 
Once, exasperated by the questions of the third party 
to the hearing, she asked if he was a lawyer, and, being 
assured that he was not, she shook hands with him very 
solemnly and continued her relation. And this is the 
tale she told : — 

"My brother. White Eyebrows, had been to a dance. 
All through the night he had been making glad the 
hearts of the maidens, for my brother was good to look 
upon and the women of the Hunkpapa know a good 
man. All the night he had danced with the other young 
people. It was not a war dance, but just a merrymaking 
of the younger people. A few days previous, our men 
had fought with the Crows and Shoshones [General 

356 



INDIAN STORY OF CUSTER'S LAST FIGHT 

Crook's allies] and the enemies of my people had fallen 
as leaves when they turn yellow. We were not harmed, 
and there was no mourning in the village of the Sioux 
on the plateau beside the Greasy Grass, the river that 
the white men call the Little Big Horn. When my 
brother came to my tepee from the dance, I still slept. 
Late the night before I and the other women of the 
Hunkpapa had labored to make ready for the march 
that we were to take up that morning. Where we were 
going, I know not. Where the men of the Sioux go, 
there go the women; it is their duty and their pleasure. 
Our people were roaming through the country that had 
been given them before the coming of the whites. The 
country was good; there was rich grass for the ponies, 
and sweet water; the fields glowed with prairie flowers 
of yellow and red and blue; there were buffaloes in the 
valleys and Indian turnips on the hills for the digging. 
We were rich in provisions, and no man had a right to 
put out his hand and tell us that we should not roam. 
The village by the Greasy Grass was but the stopping- 
place for a day or two, and we had no thought of a fight 
with the white man. The Crows and Shoshones we had 
no fears of, for the lodges of the Sioux were many and 
their men brave as the lion of the mountains. But we 
were to move out to the northwest, and I had made 
many bundles of my store. Thus it was that I lay sleep- 
ing when my brother came to the tepee in the dawn and 
asked for food. 

"I unpacked some of the bundles and prepared his 
breakfast, buffalo meat stewed with turnips, and set it 
before him; and as he ate, the people of the village awak- 
ened and the sun rose higher. I have said that our lodges 

'357 



THE BOYS' BOOK OF BATTLES 

were many, but how many people there were, I know 
not. [There were about ten thousand Indians, including 
women and children, in the village.] But the women 
were all at work, and the ponies were being rounded 
up and preparations for leaving went on, that we might 
be away before the heat of the day became great, as it 
sometimes is in the country of my people and in the val- 
leys near the big hills. 

"The village was made along the Greasy Grass and 
between that river and the Big Horn, which flows north 
to the Yellowstone. The Blackfeet, who were not many, 
had the place at the south end of the village; next to the 
Blackfeet and closer to the river were my people, the 
Hunkpapa; down the river and next to the Hunkpapa 
were the Minniconjou; and below them the Sans Arc. 
Behind the Hunkpapa, away from the river, where the 
Ogallala and the Brule; and below the Minniconjou to 
the north were the Cheyennes. Up the river from the 
village of the Blackfeet there was thick timber, and 
through this we could not see. 

"I have seen my people prepare for battle many 
times, and this I know: that the Sioux that morning had 
no thought of fighting. We expected no attack, and our 
young men did not watch for the coming of Long Hair 
[Custer] and his soldiers. 

" Most of the women were occupied in packing their 
stores preparatory to breaking camp, and some of them 
were working along the bank of the river. On the east 
side of the river an old man had shot a buffalo that 
morning, and near where the buffalo lay dead some 
women and children were digging Indian turnips. These 
people first saw the soldiers, who then were far to the 

358 



INDIAN STORY OF CUSTER'S LAST FIGHT 

east. They were on the little hills between the Greasy 
Grass and the Rosebud Rivers. They were six to eight 
miles distant when first seen, and some of the younger 
people hurried in from the place where the buffalo was 
killed to notify the camp. We could see the flashing of 
their sabers and saw that there were very many soldiers 
in the party. My people went on with their work, mak- 
ing ready to move across the Big Horn, but the tepees 
were not yet down. The men of the Sioux were much 
excited, and they watched the coming of Long Hair and 
hurried the women. The village was not made for a 
fight and they would move on. We had seen the soldiers 
marching along the high ridge on the east side of the 
river and were watching them, but had not seen these 
others approaching." 

Mrs. Spotted Horn Bull halted in her story, and 
thought for a few moments. Then she struck her hands 
sharply together to imitate the rattling of carbine fire 
and continued: — 

"Like that the soldiers were upon us. Through the 
tepee poles their bullets rattled. The sun was several 
hours high and the tepees were empty. Bullets coming 
from a strip of timber on the west bank of the Greasy 
Grass passed through the tepees of the Blackfeet and 
Hunkpapa. The broken character of the country across 
the river, together with the fringe of trees on the west 
side, where our camp was situated, had hidden the ad- 
vance of a great number of soldiers, which we had not 
seen until they were close upon us and shooting into 
our end of the village, where, from seeing the direction 
taken by the soldiers we were watching, we felt com- 
paratively secure. 

359 



THE BOYS' BOOK OF BATTLES 

"The women and children cried, fearing they would 
be killed, but the men, the Hunkpapa and Blackfeet, 
the Ogalala and Minniconjou, mounted their horses 
and raced to the Blackfeet tepees. We could still see 
the soldiers of Long Hair marching along in the dis- 
tance, and our men, taken by surprise, and from a point 
whence they had not expected to be attacked, went sing- 
ing the song of battle into the fight behind the Blackfeet 
village. And we women wailed over the children, for we 
believed that the Great Father had sent all his men for 
the destruction of the Sioux. Some of the women put 
loads on the travois and would have left, but that their 
husbands and sons were in the fight. Others tore their 
hair and wept for the fate that they thought was to be 
the portion of the Sioux, through the anger of the Great 
Father, but the men were not afraid, and they had 
many guns and cartridges. Like the fire that, driven 
by a great wind, sweeps through the heavy grass-land 
where the buffalo range, the men of the Hunkpapa, the 
Blackfeet, the Ogallala, and the Minniconjou rushed 
through the village and into the trees, where the sol- 
diers of the white chief had stopped to fire. The sol- 
diers [Reno's] had been sent by Long Hair to surprise 
the village of my people. Silently had they moved off 
around the hills, and keeping out of sight of the young 
men of our people, had crept in, south of what men now 
call Reno Hill; they had crossed the Greasy Grass and 
climbed the bench from the bank. The way from the 
river to the plateau upon which our tepees stood was 
level, but the soldiers were on foot when they came in 
sight of the Blackfeet. Then it was that they fired and 
warned us of their approach." 

360 



INDIAN STORY OF CUSTER'S LAST FIGHT 

Mrs. Spotted Horn Bull stopped an instant, and then 
said: — 

"If the soldiers had not fired until all of them were 
ready for the attack; if they had brought their horses 
and rode into the camp of the Sioux, the power of the 
Dakota nation might have been broken, and our young 
men killed in the surprise, for they were watching Long 
Hair only and had no thought of an attack anywhere 
while they could see his soldiers traveling along parallel 
with the river on the opposite side, and more than a 
rifle-shot back from the river. Long Hair had planned 
cunningly that Reno should attack in the rear while he 
rode down and gave battle from the front of the village 
looking on the river. But the Great Spirit was watching 
over his red children. He allowed the white chief [Reno] 
to strike too soon, and the braves of the Sioux ran over 
his soldiers and beat them down as corn before the hail. 
They fought a few minutes, and the men of the Hunk- 
papa, the Blackfeet, Ogallala, and the Minniconjou 
bore them down and slew many of them — all who did 
not get across the river were killed. And Long Hair was 
still three miles away when nearly all of the blue coats 
that came to kill the Sioux, at our end of the village, 
were dead; only those escaped who were mounted on 
horses and got across the river. Those who crossed the 
river got on a high hill to the east, where our young men 
did not attack them further until after Custer and his 
men were killed. Twoscore of the bluecoats lay dead 
on the field, and our people took their guns and many 
cartridges, and the mourning was in the houses afar off 
where the women of the white braves waited to hear of 
the victory they expected their young men to win. 

361 



THE BOYS' BOOK OF BATTLES 

"The shadow of the sun had not moved the width of 
a tepee pole's length from the beginning to the ending 
of the first fight; and while it was going on, the old man 
who had shot the buffalo east of the river, and some of 
the women and children who had been digging Indian 
turnips, and were cut off by the approach of Reno's 
men, came to the camp. They had seen the soldiers of 
Long Hair, and had heard the firing of Reno's men, 
and had secreted themselves in the timber along the 
river until the guns no longer spoke. 

"Down the Greasy Grass River, three or four miles 
from where Reno's men had crossed the river, and over 
across from the camps of the Cheyennes and the Sans 
Arc, there is an easy crossing of the Greasy Grass. The 
crossing is near a butte, and around the butte there 
runs a deep ravine. From Long Hair's movements the 
Sioux warriors knev\r that he had planned to strike the 
camp of my people from the lower end as Reno struck 
it from the upper end. Even the women, who knew 
nothing of warfare, saw that Reno had struck too early, 
and the warriors who were generals in planning, even 
as Long Hair was, knew that the white chief would at- 
tempt to carry out his plan of the attack, believing that 
Reno had beaten our young men. There was wild dis- 
order in our camp, the old women and children shrieked 
and got in the way of the warriors, and the women were 
ordered back out of the village, so that they might not 
be in the way of our soldiers. And our men went singing 
down the river, confident that the enemy would be de- 
feated, even as we believed that all of Reno's men had 
been killed. And I wept with the women for the brave 
dead and exulted that our braves should gain a great 

362 



INDIAN STORY OF CUSTER'S LAST FIGHT 

victory over the whites led by Long Hair, who was the 
greatest of their chiefs, and whose soldiers could then 
be plainly seen across the river. From a hill behind the 
camp, at first, and then from the bank of the river, I 
watched the men of our people plan to overthrow the 
soldiers of the Great Father; and before a shot was fired, 
I knew that no man v/ho rode with Long Hair would go 
back to tell the tale of the fight that would begin when 
the soldiers approached the river at the lower end of the 
village." 

The story-teller paused and was then asked the ques- 
tion: "Where was Sitting Bull during the fight?" She 
went on as though she had not heard the question. 

"From across the river I could hear the music of the 
bugle and could see the column of soldiers turn to the 
left, to march down to the river to where the attack was 
to be made. All I could see was the warriors of my peo- 
ple. They rushed like the wind through the village, 
going down the ravine as the women went out to the 
grazing-ground to round up the ponies. It was done very 
quickly. There had been no council the night before — 
there was no need for one; nor had there been a scalp- 
dance : nothing but the merr3rmaking of the young men 
and the maidens. When we did not know there was to 
be a fight, we could not be prepared for it. And our 
camp was not pitched anticipating a battle. The war- 
riors would not have picked out such a place for a fight 
with white men, open to attack from both ends and from 
the west side. No; what was done that day was done 
while the sun stood still and the white men were de- 
livered into the hands of the Sioux. But no plan was 
necessary. 

•363 



THE BOYS' BOOK OF BATTLES 

"Our chiefs and the young men rode quickly down to 
the end of the village, opposite to the hill upon which 
there now stands the great stone put up by the whites 
where Long Hair fell. Betvv^een that hill and the sol- 
diers was a ravine which started from the river opposite 
the camp of the Sans Arc, and ran all the way across the 
butte. To get to the butte Long Hair must cross the 
ravine; but from where he was marching vfith his sol- 
diers, he could not see into the ravine nor down to the 
banks of the river. The warriors of my people, of all 
the bands, the Sans Arc, the Cheyenne, the Brule, the 
Minniconjou, the Ogallala, the Blackf eet, all had joined 
with the Hunkpapa on our side of the Greasy Grass 
and opposite the opening into the ra\'ine. Soon I saw 
a number of Cheyennes ride into the river, then some 
young men of my band, then others, until there were 
hundreds of warriors in the river and running up into 
the ra\'ine. When some hundreds had passed the river 
and gone into the ravine, the others who were left, still 
a very great number, moved back from the river and 
waited for the attack. And I knew that the fighting 
men of the Sioux, many hundreds in number, were 
hidden in the ravine behind the hill upon which Long 
Hair was marching, and he would be attacked from 
both sides. And my heart was sad for the soldiers of 
Long Hair, though they sought the lives of our men; but 
I was a woman of the Sioux, and my husband, my 
uncles, and cousins, and brothers, all taking part in the 
battle, were men who could fight and plan, and I was 
satisfied. 

" Pizi [Gall] and many of his young men had recrossed 
the Greasy Grass River after the white men had been 

364 



INDIAN STORY OF CUSTER'S LAST FIGHT 

driven off or killed in the earlier engagement at the 
upper end of the village, where he with some of our war- 
riors had been shooting at the soldiers, who were chased 
to the hill, and the soldiers had been shooting at them, 
but could not hit the Sioux. WTien Pizi [Gall] recrossed 
the river many women followed his party, and we heard 
him tell his men to frighten the horses of the soldiers, 
which were held in small bunches. With shoutings that 
we could hear across the river, the young men stam- 
peded the horses and the women captured them and 
brought them to the village. The Indians fought the 
soldiers with bullets taken from the first party that at- 
tacked their village, and many rode the horses captured 
from the white men, who had fled to the hill. To the 
northwest a great many women and children were driv- 
ing in the ponies of the Sioux, but I remained with 
many other women along the bank of Greasy Grass 
River. I saw Crazy Horse lead the Cheyennes into the 
water and up the ravine; Crow King and the Hunkpapa 
went after them; and then Gall, who had led his young 
men and killed the soldiers he had been fighting farther 
up the river, rode along the beach by the river to where 
Long Hair had stopped with his men. 

"I cannot remember the time. When men fight and 
the air is filled with bullets, when the screaming of 
horses that are shot drowns the war-whoop of the war- 
riors, a woman whose husband and brothers are in the 
battle does not think of the time. But the sun was no 
longer overhead when the war-whoop of the Sioux 
sounded from the river-bottom and the ravine sur- 
rounding the hill at the end of the ridge where Long 
Hair had taken his last stand. The river was in sight 

365 



THE BOYS' BOOK OF BATTLES 

from the butte, and while the whoop still rung in our 
ears and the women were shrieking, two Cheyennes tried 
to cross the river and one of them was shot and killed by 
Long Hair's men. Then the men of the Sioux Nation, 
led by Crow King, Hump, Crazy Horse, and many great 
chiefs, rose up on all sides of the hill, and the last we 
could see from our side of the river was a great number 
of gray horses. The smoke of the shooting and the dust 
of the horses shut out the hill, and the soldiers fired 
many shots, but the Sioux shot straight and the soldiers 
fell dead. The women crossed the river after the men 
of our village, and when we came to the hill there were 
no soldiers living and Long Hair lay dead among the 
rest. There were more than two hundred dead soldiers 
on the hill, and the boys of the village shot many who 
were already dead, for the blood of the people was hot 
and their hearts bad, and they took no prisoners that 
day." 

The woman sat playing with the edge of her blanket. 
Of the dreadful things that took place on the hill after 
the command of the unfortunate Custer had been an- 
nihilated, she would, of course, say nothing. The women 
of her nation finished the work of the warriors on that 
awful field. 

I asked her if there was any more fighting. 

"Not much. The men on the hill [Reno's] were safe 
to stay there until they wanted water. Gall kept his 
men along the river. Some of the soldiers were shot as 
they tried to reach the water. There was some fighting, 
too, but none of our young men were killed. 

"That night the Sioux, men, women, and children, 
lighted many fires and danced; their hearts were glad, 

366 



INDIAN STORY OF CUSTER'S LAST FIGHT 

for the Great Spirit had given them a great victory. 
All along the valley of the Greasy Grass, fires were 
lighted, and the women laughed as they labored hard to 
bring m the fuel; for in the darkness they could see the 
gleam of the flames on the arms of the soldiers fastened 
in a trap on Reno Hill. The people had taken many 
guns, cartridges, horses, and much clothing from the 
soldiers, and they rejoiced, while the fires lit up the 
field on the hill across the river, where the naked bodies 
of the soldiers lay. We had much money, but did not 
know at the time what its real value was, and a lot of 
green-paper money was kept in my tepee for some time 
before being disposed of. All night the people danced 
and sang their songs of victory, and they were strong 
in their might and would have attacked the soldiers who 
lay through the night on what you call Reno Hill, but 
Gall and Crow King and Crazy Horse would waste no 
lives of the Sioux braves. They said: 'We will shoot at 
them occasionally, but not charge. They will fall into 
our hands when the thirst burns in their throats and 
makes them mad for drink.' 

"This was the counsel of the chiefs, and the young 
men saw that it was good; so while many feasted, a few 
held the hill and the soldiers did not know it, for, of 
those who stole to the river to drink, none went back 
ahve. There was fighting the next day, but the Sioux 
knew early in the day that many soldiers were coming 
up from the north, and preparations were made to leave 
for new hunting-grounds. And while our hearts were 
singing for the victory our braves had won, there were 
wailing women in the village, for they had their dead. 
Since the Sioux first fought the men who are our friends 

367 



THE BOYS' BOOK OF BATTLES 

now, they had not won so great a battle and at so little 
cost. Twenty-two dead were counted, and the price was 
not great; but what wife, or mother, or sister gives 
thought to victory when she finds her dead on the field? 
So it was that in the midst of the rejoicing, there was 
sorrowing among the women, who would not be com- 
forted in knowing that their dead had gone to join the 
ghosts of the brave. The dead we took with us, laid on 
travois, and carried for many days, for among the white 
men were Crow and Shoshone scouts, who would dese- 
crate our dead, and we would have no Sioux scalps 
dangling at their tepee-poles. 

"So we went out from Greasy Grass River, and left 
Long Hair and his dead to their friends. The people 
scattered and the pursuit did not harm us. But I still 
remember the bitterness of the suffering of the Sioux 
that winter, after we had met and talked with Bear 
Coat [General Miles] on the Yellowstone, when we were 
on our way north into the land of the Red Coats, where 
we remained five winters, and were frequently very 
destitute, while we remained there. 

" So it was that the Sioux defeated Long Hair and his 
soldiers in the valley of the Greasy Grass River, which 
my people remember with regret, but without shame. 
We are now living happily and in friendship with the 
whites, knowing that their hearts are good toward us. 
The great chiefs who led that fight are dead: Gall, 
Crow King, Crazy Horse, Big Road, and the other head 
men are dead and gone to the land of ghosts, but their 
deeds live, and we of the Sioux nation keep them in our 
memories, even as we keep in remembrance Long Hair 
and his men, whose bravery in battle makes the bravery 

3^8 



INDIAN STORY OF CUSTER'S LAST FIGHT 

of their conquerors a thing that cannot be buried in the 
grave nor forgotten, because their ghosts are at peace." 
And Mrs. Spotted Horn Bull put the corner of her 
shawl to her face and wiped away a tear, forced perhaps 
by the thought that the husband of her youth, whom she 
has not forgotten, — though she has had many offers 
from chief men of her people, — was with the ghosts of 
those others who fought with and against him on that 
June day, thirty-three years ago, in the valley of the 
Little Big Horn. 



A MODERN BATTLEFIELD 

[About 1S98] 
BY JULIAN RALPH 

The pictures of our battles which are produced in illus- 
trated papers are not at all like real scenes at the front. 

Art cannot keep pace with the quick advances of 
science, and illustrators find that for effect they must 
still put as much smoke and confusion in their battle 
studies as went with the old pictures of Waterloo. If 
this were left out, the pubhc would be disappointed, and 
unable to tell a battlefield from a parade. 

Lately a picture in one of our leading papers, by a 
very capable artist, showed the British storming a Boer 
position. In the middle distance was a Boer battery, and 
the only gunner left alive was standing up with a band- 
age round his head, while smoke and flame and flying 
fragments of shells filled the air in his vicinity. In the 
rush of the instant he must have been bandaged by the 
same shot that struck him, and as for the smoke and 
flying debris, there was more of this in a corner of that 
picture than was to be seen in all the four battles we 
have fought ! 

What, then, is a modern battle — how does it look and 
sound? 

Really, the field of operations is so extensive, and the 
range of modern guns is so great, that fighting condi- 
tions have altered, until there is no longer any general 
"noise of battle hurtled in the air," no possibility of 

370 



A MODERN BATTLEFIELD 

grasping or viewing an engagement from any single 
point. 

You may hear one of our big guns loosed three miles 
over on the right and another two miles on the left. If 
you are near they make a tremendous noise, yet I have 
not heard any explosion so loud as a good strong clap of 
thunder. The guns of the enemy cough far in front of 
you, and their shells burst within your lines with a 
louder sound — but with no real crash or deafening roar. 

Our guns at their muzzles create but little smoke, 
though our Lyddite shells throw up clouds of dust and 
smoke where they fall miles away. Because the Boers 
are using old-fashioned powder in their cannon there is 
a small white cloud wherever one is fired, and a spurt of 
red sand where their shells dig into the veldt. The smoke 
of war, therefore, and the so-called roar of battle are 
nowadays occasional, scattered, inconsiderable. 

Rifle-firing has been the principal feature of our fights. 
It sounds hke the frying of fat, or like the crackling 
and snapping of green wood in a bonfire. If you are 
within two miles of the front, you are apt to be under 
fire, and then you hear the music of individual bullets. 
Their song is like the magnified note of a mosquito. 
"Z — 2—3 — 3 — 3" — they go over your head; "z — 3 — 
3 — 3 — />" — they finish as they bury themselves in the 
ground. This is a sound only to be heard when the bul- 
lets fly very close. You pick up your heels and run a 
hundred, or even fifty, yards, and you hear nothing 
but the general crackle of rifle-fire in and before the 
trenches. 

The "putt-putt," or Vickers-Nordenfeldt gun, is able 
to interest you at a distance of three miles. Its explo- 

371 



THE BOYS' BOOK OF BATTLES 

sions are best described by the nickname given to the 
gun by one regiment: "The blooming door-knocker." 
Its bullets or shells are as big as the bowl of a large brier- 
root pipe, and they tear and slit the air with a terrible 
sound, exploding when they strike. The firing of this 
gun was heard all over the largest of our battlefields, and 
the sound of exploding shells carried far, because they 
were apt to fall on the quiet, outer edge of the field. The 
whizz that even these missiles make in flying, however, 
is like the whispered answers of a maid in love, only to 
be heard by the favored individual who is especially 
addressed. 

Thus the many separate sounds are not loud enough 
to blend. The crowning, all-pervading noises are those 
of the guns and of the rifle-fire, and on the vast veldt, 
spread over a double line of five to seven miles in length, 
only those that are very near are very loud. 

The scene of battle — the general view — is exceed- 
ingly orderly. There may be a desperate scrimmage 
where a company or two are storming a Kopje, but level 
your glass on yonder hill, and what do you see — a 
fringe of tiny jets of fire from the top where the Boers 
are, and our men in Khaki rising, and reclining, and 
occasionally firing, as they win their way upward. 

The general view displays an arrangement as methodi- 
cal as a chessboard. There are several battalions flat on 
their faces in two or three long fines. Over here is a bat- 
tery in perfect order, with its limber of horses at rest 
near by. Another battery, equally well arranged, as if 
to have its photograph taken, is to be seen in the middle 
field; a third is on the farther side. The cavalry is 
sweeping across the veldt in perfect rank and alignment. 

372 



A MODERN BATTLEFIELD 

There is no confusion anywhere — nothing is helter- 
skelter or slap-dash. 

I remember only two momentary disturbances of this 
stern, steady discipline. One was in the afternoon, dur- 
ing the Modder River fight, when a large band of 
mounted Boers made a flank movement on our extreme 
right, and fired a volley at our immense mass of trans- 
port and ambulance wagons, water-carts, and ammuni- 
tion trains. 

The drivers were taken by surprise, and fell to lashing 
their mule teams and horses, generally to the accom- 
paniment of high-keyed Kafir yells. The rout lasted but 
five minutes or less, and was comical beyond descrip- 
tion, because the leading mules climbed over the wheel- 
ers, and the faster the bullets fell the louder the Kafirs 
yelled, and the more they pKed their enormous whips. 

The bravery of our stretcher-bearers is as much be- 
yond question as it is beyond praise. All historians who 
tell of the dash and valor of the generals, colonels, ma- 
jors, captains, and "Tommies" of the army, in common 
justice must also describe how the chaplains, doctors, 
and stretcher-bearers went in and out of the most hellish 
fire, not once or twice, but all through every battle. 

It is just outside the range of fire that you see and 
realize the horrors of war. It is there that the wounded 
crawl and stagger by you; it is there that they spend 
their final output of energy, and fall down to lie until 
assistance comes; it is there that you see stretchers laden 
with their mangled freight, and sound soldiers bearing 
the wounded on their backs and in their arms. 

More certainly to know the brutality and woe of war, 
happen upon a kopje that has just been stormed, or a 

373 



THE BOYS' BOOK OF BATTLES 

trench that has been carried. Go to such a place to-day, 
twenty centuries after Christ came with his message of 
peace on earth and good will to men, and behold what 
you shall see. 

"Here," said I to a photographer in such a place — I 
think it was Belmont — "snap this scene. Look at the 
wounded all over the ground. Quick! out with your 
camera." 

"Oh, I can't," said he; "it's too horrible!" 

"As you please," I said. "But it's what the public 
wants." 

You read, in the writings of those who know nothing 
of war, about the writhing of the wounded, and the 
groaning on the battlefield. There is no writhing, and the 
groans are few and faint. There was one man who was 
simply cut to pieces by a shell at Maaghersfontein, and 
his sufferings must have been awful. He kept crying, 
"Doctor, can't you do anything?" Another begged to 
be killed, and the first wounded man I saw kept saying, 
poor fellow, in ever so low a voice, "Oh, dear, dear, dear! 
Oh, dear, dear, dear!" But there is much less groaning 
than you would imagine — very Httle in proportion to 
the sufferings. 

Two things are so common with the wounded as to be 
almost like rules of behavior. They all beg for water (it 
used to be cigarettes that they asked for on the Turkish 
side in the last war in Europe), and they seem always 
to be made gentle by their wounds. Men of the rough- 
est speech, profane by second nature, cease to offend 
when stricken down. 

"Well, mate," said one, whose leg was shattered, "you 
never know when your turn will come, do you?" 

374 



A MODERN BATTLEFIELD 

And another simply cried, "Oh, dear!" 

Now and then you heard, "For God's sake, get me 
taken to an ambulance!" — but no profanity was in- 
tended there. 

Many may wonder how it feels to be wounded. All 
who had bones shattered by expanding bullets used 
nearly the same language to describe the sensation. 

*' You feel," they said, "exactly as if you had received 
a powerful shock from an electric battery, and then 
comes a blow as if your foot" (or arm, or whatever part 
it might be) "was crushed by a stroke with a tremen- 
dous mallet." It is much the same in a lesser degree if a 
bone is struck by a Mauser bullet; but if the smooth, 
slender, clean Kttle shot merely pierces the flesh, a burn- 
ing or stinging sensation is the instantaneous result. 

"Lying six hours in the broiling sun was pretty bad," 
said one whose arm-bone was smashed; "but the really 
awful experience was the jolting over rocks when I was 
carried off in an ambulance." 

Another man, an officer, whose foot was smashed by 
an explosive bullet, said, "Look at my pipe. That's 
what I did to keep from saying anything." He had 
bitten off an inch of the hardened rubber mouthpiece. 
That was before his wound was dressed. The relief that 
is given by the dressing of a wound must be exquisite, 
for you hear next to no groans or moans after a doctor 
has given this first attention. 

In the army of Lord Methuen the great majority of 
wounds were in the arms and feet; but other points and 
experiences in war are more remarkable. The chances 
of receiving a wound seem not to have greatly increased 
with the improvements in modern death-dealing im- 

375 



THE BOYS' BOOK OF BATTLES 

plements. There were more than a million shots fired at 
Modder River, and yet only about eight hundred men 
were hit; while the number of bullets that hit water- 
bottles, haversacks, ration-tins, and coat-sleeves was 
astonishing. The damage to life and limb by the exces- 
sive artillery fire was next to nothing. 

On a typical field of battle the armies oppose one an- 
other with orderly masses. Staff officers ride hither and 
thither. Batteries rumble to and fro at long intervals, 
as they are ordered to take new positions, and in the 
same way the cavalry appear and reappear on the edges 
of the field. Stretcher-bearers bring the wounded out of 
the zone of danger, and ambulances roll up, get their 
loads, and roll away again, all day continually as in a 
ceaseless train. 

Brave privates bring out the wounded, and work their 
way back into fire again, now running forward, now 
dropping flat upon the veldt. Skulkers work back to the 
edge of the field in the same way — a few only — and 
are gathered up and sent forward in batches by the offi- 
cers who come upon them. At last the cheer of British 
victory is heard, and the whole force rushes forward, 
or darkness falls upon an unfinished fight, and we grope 
about the veldt, seeking our camps, and the food and 
drink that most of us have gone without too long. 



FIGHTING IN DARKEST AFRICA 

BY GUSTAV FRENSSEN 

[This story is from a book supposed to be written by a sol- 
dier of the German army in Southwest Africa, telling of his 
experiences in the campaign against the natives in 1903-04. 

The Editor.] 

Before midnight we advanced toward the enemy. It 
was said that our division would come upon them about 
morning. The Witt-boys rode on ahead as spies. Then 
came our company. One part was detached to ride at 
the side of the road in the bush; the other part was to 
keep on riding in the road. I was in the third platoon. 
Behind me in compact array came the artillery. We 
marched as quietly as possible, but still there were all 
sorts of noises: snorting of horses, jolting of wheels, an 
impatient, angry shout, or a blow with a whip. I was 
very cold in the saddle, and, in order not to have stiff 
fingers later, when I had to shoot, I laid the reins over 
my cartridge-belt and put my hands in my pockets. 

At last morning broke, and delicate, rosy stripes of 
light soon shot up toward the zenith. The colors grew 
rapidly deeper, brighter, and stronger. The red was glo- 
rious in its fullness and the blue beautiful in its purity. 
The light mounted and extended itself, ascending like a 
new world a thousand times more beautiful than the old 
one. Then came the sun, big and clear, looking like a 
great, placid, w^ide-open eye. Although like a good sol- 
dier I had all my thoughts fixed on what was before me, 
on the enemy, and the bad hours I should probably 
meet with, yet I saw the splendor of the sky. 

Near me rode a fellow from Hamburg, a fresh, quiet 

377 



THE BOYS' BOOK OF BATTLES 

boy. He said once to me: "You see, one has to have ex- 
perienced something, or how shall one become a serious, 
capable man? That's why I came here." He was to 
enter his father's business later. He was riding just as I 
was, his reins over his cartridge-belt and his hands in his 
pockets; he was frowning this morning, and kept a sharp 
lookout before him. Diagonally behind me rode the 
former officer. 

About this time of day. according to the predictions 
of our scouts, we ought to reach the enemy, but they 
were not to be seen. Then I thought, as did many others, 
that again there would be no fighting, and I was annoyed. 
Shortly after this, however, we heard the thunder of 
cannon coming from our right. 

It got to be eight o'clock, and nine. The bush was so 
dense that the parties sent into it could not advance. 
They came out and marched together along the road. 
The sun was steadily mounting; it was getting to be a 
hot day. It began to be warm riding, and the horses 
Vv'ere growing tired. A Httle thin lieutenant with a drawn 
face and sharp eyes rode up alongside of me and said, in 
a suppressed voice: "We are n't a mile and a half from 
the water-holes." Several times in the last few days he 
had made dangerous excursions into this region, and he 
knew every bush. 

Then the first shot fell ahead. With a quick swing we 
were out of our saddles and had thrown the reins over 
our horses' necks. Those who were to hold the horses 
seized them. Our company was only ninety strong, and, 
as we left ten with the horses, only eighty men went into 
the thick bush. The enemy were firing vigorously and 
letting out short, wild cries. I saw one of our men 

378 



FIGHTING IN DARKEST AFRICA 

wounded. He stooped and examined a wound in his leg. 
Still, I saw nothing of the enemy. Then just for a second 
I saw a piece of an arm in a grayish brown cord coat, 
and I shot at it. Then I lay down to spy out another 
target. Lively firing was being exchanged. When one 
of us thought he had hit his mark, he would announce it 
with a loud voice: "That one won't get up again! I got 
him in the middle of the breast!" The third man at my 
right, who was lying by a bush in front of me, twitched 
convulsively. A derisive voice on the other side shouted: 
"Had enough, Dutchman?" My comrade said, in a 
quiet voice: "I have a bullet in my shoulder," and he 
crawled back on all fours. 

I could hear through all our own shooting that we 
were getting fired upon from the left. This fire now be- 
came heavier. They were coming nearer. In close ranks 
they came, creeping and shouting and screaming. Two 
of my neighbors were not shouting any more. We 
crawled back once or twice our length. The enemy 
shouted: "Look out, Dutchman, look out!" and laughed 
wildly. Others shouted: "Hurrah! hurrah!" The bush 
was swarming with men. I thought they would now 
break loose upon us in a wild storm and that it would be 
all up with us. On account of our wounded men I was 
fearfully anxious lest we should have to retreat. I was 
firmly resolved if the command should come, to shout 
loudly: "Take along the wounded!" But when I had 
just decided on this plan, a subordinate officer came up 
with several men and cheered us on with the words, 
"Hold your position! I am sending aid!" Soon after- 
wards I heard something slipping and grating behind me, 
and a quiet, soft voice said: "Move a little to the side." 

379 



THE BOYS' BOOK OF BATTLES 

The nozzle of a machine gun was pushed forward near 
my face, and immediately began to crackle away. The 
grape shot hissed furiously into the bushes, rattling and 
whizzing. How good it sounded! How surely and 
quietly I shot ! "Did I hit? Did you see? Shoot, man, 
there ! there ! " Cannon, too, upon a slope behind us were 
now thundering over our heads. Then it grew a little 
more quiet on the other side, and the command of "For- 
ward, double quick!" reached us. We sprang up and 
plunged forward, but a horrible volley of grape shot was 
poured against us and threw us back again. 

In front of m.e an under ofl&cer had got a ball in the 
body, and blood was streaming from the wound. He was 
crouching and trying to stem the flow of blood with a 
handkerchief, and was calling for help. He was a light- 
complexioned, fine-looking man. Just then the former 
ofiicer, the one who was under the ofncial ban, came 
up from the side, seized the wounded man by the shoul- 
ders, and dragged him back, while balls were falling 
around him and the barrel of his gun was hit so that 
it flew rattling to one side. He then quietly lay down 
in his place again. On the other side, in the bush, they 
were shouting in wild zeal and shrieking for very 
rage. 

We did not advance. I don't know how long we lay 
there firing. It was probably hours. I wondered once 
why no officer was to be seen with us, and I forgot it 
again. Sweat ran like water over my entire body. Not 
merely my tongue, but my throat, my whole body, cried 
out for a swallow of cool water. At one side a hospital 
aid was trying to bind a rubber bandage around the 
bleeding leg of a wounded man who begged him in South 

380 



FIGHTING IN DARKEST AFRICA 

German dialect : "Take me back a little, can you? " Then 
the aid dragged him back panting. 

The fire from the other side was getting weaker. A 
voice commanded us: "Fire more slowly." From the 
other side we heard it jeeringly mimicked: "Fire more 
slowly." A wounded man cried aloud for water. 

We lay and waited, our guns pointed. Word passed 
from mouth to mouth: "The captain is dead; the first 
lieutenant, too — all the ofiicers — and almost all the 
under officers." Propping my gun in position, I took my 
field flask with my left hand and swallowed the little 
draught I had saved up for the greatest emergency. As 
I set the flask aside, I thought that perhaps it would be 
my last drink, and I thought of my parents. I believed 
that the enemy would get breath and then make an- 
other assault. 

But that did not happen. A lieutenant who belonged 
to the staff came stooping along our ranks. When he was 
behind me, he knelt there, touched my boot lightly, and 
said: "Go to the general and report that according to 
my reckoning we are about half a mile distant from the 
last water-holes." 

I got cautiously up on my knees, and then ducking 
down ran back to the road. Near an ant-hill, which was 
certainly three yards high, a surgeon and a hospital aid 
were endeavoring to save a man from bleeding to death ; 
but I believe they came too late, for he lay Hke dead on 
his dark red blanket. Then I saw the balloon not far in 
front of me and I ran across the clearing to it. 

The long rows of oxen, standing in harness in front of 
their wagons, raised their open mouths and bellowed 
hoarsely, for they scented the water-holes and panted 

381 



THE BOYS' BOOK OF BATTLES 

for water. The soldiers at the wagons and horses called 
to me with dry voices: "Get ahead, you fellows up for- 
ward ! Are we coming to water soon? Are we going on? " 
They looked at me with deep, dry eyes. Those who 
held the horses had a great deal of trouble with the 
thirsty creatures, which were standing crowded to- 
gether, swarmed over and tortured by insects. The 
sun scorched down. A thick, horribly dry, dust-filled air 
lay over the whole camp. 

The surgeons in white cloaks stood in front of the hos- 
pital wagon around a table on which some one was lying. 
I wondered how many were lying in the shade of the 
wagon; five or six of them were dead, among them our 
captain. A wounded officer, I think it was a heutenant, 
was giving water with his well hand to the severely 
wounded; his other arm was bleeding badly. 

At the general's wagon a man was standing by the 
heliograph. The general was near by with officers and 
orderlies around him, all of them on foot. I reported and 
heard some one say: "The animals can't hold out any 
longer and the men are simply dying of thirst." The 
next moment, just as I had turned to run to the front, 
there came from behind from two or three directions 
wild shouting and volleys from the bush. 

The outposts, who were lying and kneeling on the 
ground all around, moved in immediately. The voice of 
an officer rang out sharp and clear: "Disperse and charge 
in knots." I ran, and saw as I ran that a hailstorm of 
bullets was riddling the hospital wagon, that the doctors 
were seizing their guns, and that one of them was 
wounded. I even heard one say: "We'll take off our 
white cloaks, though." Then I lay down by a bush and 

382 



FIGHTING IN DARKEST AFRICA 

shot at the enemy, who with wild shouts continued their 
onset through the bushes. Secretaries, orderHes, drivers, 
guard, and officers all rushed forward, lay down near one 
another, and protected their skins. The artillery turned 
while firing and shot away over us. Excited by my run 
and the sudden attack, I began a violent, rapid fire. A 
voice near me said: "Shoot more calmly." I did fire 
more calmly, thinking, "Who said that?" and as I 
seized my cartridge-belt and looked to the side, there lay 
the general two men from me, shooting coolly as becomes 
an old soldier. The enemy were pressing on in close 
ranks through the bush, shouting and firing. But we lay 
quietly and shot well. Then it got more quiet. The offi- 
cers stood up and returned to the center of the camp 
again. Immediately after that came the order that the 
whole camp should advance two hundred yards. In run- 
ning by I saw them lifting the dead and wounded into 
wagons. Then I ran forward again to my place in the 
line of defense. 

Now as I lay there I felt how very parched I was. 
Begging and complaining and teasing for water went 
through the ranks. From behind we heard the hoarse 
lowing of the thirsty oxen. I believe that at this time, 
four in the afternoon, there was not a drop of water in 
the whole camp except for the wounded. 

Then everything was moved to the front, — soldiers, 
artillery, and machine guns. A terrific fire rattled 
against the enemy, who were growing weary. Then word 
passed from man to man: "We are going to charge." 
Now the battle-cry told. I shall never forget it. With 
fierce yells, with distorted faces, with dry and burning 
eyes, we sprang to our feet and hurled ourselves forward. 

383 



THE BOYS' BOOK OF BATTLES 

The enemy leaped, fired, and dispersed with loud out- 
cries. We ran without interference, shouting, cursing, 
and shooting, to the good-sized clearing where the 
ardently desired water-holes were, and across it to the 
farther edge, where the bush began again. 

The entire camp — the heavy wagons with their long 
teams of oxen; the hundreds of horses; the hospital wag- 
ons with the surgeons, the dead and the wounded; the 
headquarters, everything — followed in a rush and en- 
camped in the clearing. But we lay around it at the 
edge of the bush to keep back the enemy, who now here 
and now there would break through the thick bushes in 
wild, loudly shouting parties. Behind us our men were 
now climbing down with army kettles into the water- 
holes, which were ten yards deep, and were filling buckets 
let down on reins and were beginning to water man and 
beast. When about ten animals had had a little, the 
hole was empty. There were about ten or twelve holes 
at this place. 

The sun went down. Some of us slipped out, cut 
brush with our side-arms, and made a stockade in front 
of us. The artillerymen set up the cannon and machine 
guns behind us and knelt near them. Some of the sol- 
diers were detailed to creep from man to man and give 
each a little water. In the camp further back of us, the 
restlessly crowding animals were being watered in the 
dark. By the hospital wagons nurses were going about, 
lanterns in their hands, bending over each patient. 
Meanwhile the enemy kept up their firing, which contin- 
ually flashed out of the dark bush all around the camp. 
Not until about midnight did it become more quiet. We 
passed a little zwieback from hand to hand. Then com- 

384 



FIGHTING IN DARKEST AFRICA 

plete darkness settled upon us and the shooting at last 
ceased. 

What plan had the enemy in mind? Here we lay in 
the dark night, four hundred men, worn out, and half 
dead with thirst; and in front of us and aU around us a 
savage, furious people numbering sixty thousand. We 
knew and heard nothing of the other German divisions. 
Perhaps they had been slaughtered and the sixty thou- 
sand were now collecting themselves to fall upon us. 
Through the quiet night we heard in the distance the 
lowing of enormous herds of thirsty cattle and a dull con- 
fused sound like the movement of a whole people. To 
the east there was a gigantic glow of fire. I lay stretched 
at full length with my gun ready, and cheered my ut- 
terly exhausted comrades to keep awake. 

Thus morning gradually came on. Then some scouts 
went out cautiously and we learned to our great amaze- 
ment that the enemy had withdrawn, and indeed in wild 
flight. We should have liked to follow them up, but we 
had no news yet from the other divisions. Moreover, 
both men and beasts had reached the limit of their 
strength. So we rested on that day, ate a little poor food, 
and cleansed and repaired our guns and other equipment ; 
for we looked like people who had battered and bruised 
and soiled themselves in an attack of frenzy. The mad- 
ness still showed in our frowning brows and in our eyes. 
Our dead lay in the midst of us in the shade of a tree. 

We had a great deal of trouble to keep our animals 
from dying. We could not give them anywhere near 
enough water to satisfy them, and we could not give 
them any fodder at all, because the entire region had 
been eaten as bare by the enemy's cattle as if rats and 

385 



THE BOYS' BOOK OF BATTLES 

mice had gnawed it clean. The men and the animals had 
even grubbed into the earth in search of roots. It was a 
miserable day. The sun glared down, and an odor of old 
manure filled the whole land to suffocation. 

At noon there came at last some news from the other 
divisions. Two reported that they had beaten the en- 
emy, the third that it had saved itself with great diffi- 
culty and distress. The enemy had fled to the east with 
their whole enormous mass, — women, children, and 
herds. 

Toward evening we buried our dead under the tree. 



THE ATTACK UPON PORT ARTHUR 

BY LIEUTENANT TADAYOSHI SAKURAI, OF THE IMPERIAL 
JAPANESE ARMY 

As soon as we were gathered together the colonel rose 
and gave us a final word of exhortation, saying: "This 
battle is our great chance of serving our country. To- 
night we must strike at the vitals of Port Arthur. Our 
brave assaulting column must be not simply a forlorn- 
hope ('resolved-to-die'),but a 'sure-death' detachment. 
I as your father am more grateful than I can express for 
your gallant fighting. Do your best, all of you." 

Yes, we were all ready for death when leaving Japan. 
Men going to battle of course cannot expect to come 
back alive. But in this particular battle to be ready for 
death was not enough; what was required of us was a 
determination not to fail to die. Indeed, we were 
"sure-death" men, and this new appellation gave us a 
great stimulus. Also a telegram that had come from the 
Minister of War in Tokyo, was read by the aide-de- 
camp, which said, "I pray for your success." This 
increased the exaltation of our spirits. 

Let me now recount the sublimity and horror of this 
general assault. I was a mere lieutenant and every- 
thing passed through my mind as in a dream, so my 
story must be something like picking out things from 
the dark. I can't give you any systematic account, but 
must limit myself to fragmentary recollections. If this 
story sounds like a vainglorious account of my own 

3S7 



THE BOYS' BOOK OF BATTLES 

achievements, it is not because I am conscious of my 
merit when I have so little to boast of, but because the 
things concerning me and near me are what I can tell 
you with authority. If this partial accoimt prove a clue 
from which the whole story of this terrible assault may 
be inferred, my work will not have been in vain. 

The men of the "sure-death" detachment rose to 
their part. Fearlessly they stepped forward to the place 
of death. They went over Panlung-shan and made their 
way through the piled-up bodies of the dead, groups of 
five or six soldiers reaching the barricaded slope one 
after another. 

I said to the colonel, "Good-bye, then!" 

With this farewell I started, and my first step was on 
the head of a corpse. Our objective points were the 
Northern Fortress and Wang-tai Hill. 

There was a fight with bombs at the enemy's skir- 
mish-trenches. The bombs sent from our side exploded 
finely, and the place became at once a conflagration, 
boards were flung about, sand-bags burst, heads flew 
around, legs were torn off. The flames mingled with the 
smoke, lighted up our faces weirdly, with a red glare, 
and all at once the battle-line became confused. Then 
the enemy, thinking it hopeless, left the place and 
began to flee. "Forward! forward! Now is the time to 
go forward! Forward! Pursue! Capture it with one 
bound!" And, proud of our victory, we went forward 
courageously. 

Captain Kawakami, raising his sword, cried, "For- 
ward!" and then I, standing close by him, cried, 
"Sakurai's company, forward!" 

Thus shouting I left the captain's side, and, in order 

388 



THE ATTACK UPON PORT ARTHUR 

to see the road we were to follow, went behind the 
rampart. What is that black object which obstructs our 
view? It is the ramparts of the Northern Fortress. 
Looking back, I did not see a soldier. Alack, had the 
line been cut? In trepidation, keeping my body to the 
left for safety, I called the Twelfth Company. 

"Lieutenant Sakurai!" a voice called out repeatedly 
in answer. Returning in the direction of the soimd, I 
found Corporal Ito weeping loudly. 

"What are you crying for? What has happened?" 

The corporal, weeping bitterly, gripped my arm 
tightly. 

"Lieutenant Sakurai, you have become an important 
person." 

"What is there to weep about? I say, what is the 
matter?" 

He whispered in my ear, "Our captain is dead." 

Hearing this, I too wept. Was it not only a moment 
ago that he had given the order "Forward"? Was it 
not even now that I had separated from him? And yet 
our captain was one of the dead. In one moment our 
tender, pitying Captain Kawakami and I had become 
beings of two separate worlds. Was it a dream or a 
reality, I wondered? 

Corporal Ito pointed out the captain's body, which 
had fallen inside the rampart only a few rods away. 
I hastened thither and raised him in my arms. 

"Captain!" I could not say a word more. 

But as matters could not remain thus, I took the 
secret map which the captain had, and, rising up boldly, 
called out, "From henceforward I command the 
Twelfth Company." And I ordered that some one of 

389 



THE BOYS' BOOK OF BATTLES 

the wounded should carry back the captain's corpse. 
A wounded soldier was just about to raise it up when he 
was struck on a vital spot and died leaning on the cap- 
tain. One after another of the soldiers who took his 
place was struck and fell. 

I called Sub-Lieutenant Ninomiya and asked him if 
the sections were together. 

He answered in the affirmative. I ordered Corporal 
Ito not to let the Hne be cut, and told him that I would 
be in the center of the skirmishers. In the darkness of 
the night we could not distinguish the features of the 
country, nor in which direction we were to march. 
Standing up abruptly against the dark sky were the 
Northern Fortress and Wang-tai Hill. In front of us 
lay a natural stronghold, and we were in a caldron- 
shaped hollow. But still we marched on side by side. 

"The Twelfth Company forward!" 

I turned to the right and went forward as in a dream. 
I remember nothing clearly of the time. 

"Keep the line together!" 

This was my one command. Presently I ceased to 
hear the voice of Corporal Ito, who had been at my 
right hand. The bayonets gleaming in the darkness 
became fewer. The black masses of soldiers who had 
pushed their way on now became a handful. All at 
once, as if struck by a club, I fell down sprawling on the 
ground. I was wounded, struck in my right hand. The 
splendid magnesium light of the enemy flashed out, 
showing the piled-up bodies of the dead, and I raised 
my wounded hand and looked at it. It was broken at 
th€ wrist; the hand hung down and was bleeding pro- 
fusely. I took out the already loosened bundle of band- 

390 



THE ATTACK UPON PORT ARTHUR 

ages/ tied up my wound with the triangular piece, and 
then wrapping a handkerchief over it, I slung it from 
my neck with the sunrise flag, which I had sworn to 
plant on the enemy's fortress. 

Looking up, I saw that only a valley lay between me 
and Wang-tai Hill, which almost touched the sky. I 
wished to drink and sought at my waist, but the canteen 
was gone; its leather strap alone was entangled in my 
feet. The voices of the soldiers were lessening one by 
one. In contrast, the glare of the rockets of the hated 
enemy and the frightful noise of the cannonading in- 
creased. I slowly rubbed my legs, and, seeing that they 
were unhurt, I again rose. Throwing aside the sheath 
of my sword, I carried the bare blade in my left hand as 
a staff, went down the slope as in a dream, and climbed 
Wang-tai Hill. 

The long and enormously heavy guns were towering 
before me, and how few of my men were left alive now ! 
I shouted and told the survivors to follow me, but few 
answered my call. When I thought that the other 
detachments must also have been reduced to a similar 
condition, my heart began to fail me. No reinforcement 
was to be hoped for, so I ordered a soldier to climb the 
rampart and plant the sun flag overhead, but alas! he 
was shot and killed, without even a sound or cry. 

All of a sudden a stupendous sound as from another 
world rose around about me. 

" Counter-assault ! " 

A detachment of the enemy appeared on the rampart, 
looking like a dark wooden barricade. They surrounded 

* The " first aid " bandages, prepared by the Red Cross Society, 
issued to every soldier as part of his equipment. 

391 



THE BOYS' BOOK OF BATTLES 

us in the twinkling of an eye and raised a cry of triumph. 
Our disadvantageous position would not allow us to of- 
fer any resistance, and our party was too small to fight 
them. We had to fall back down the steep hill. Looking 
back, I saw the Russians shooting at us as they pursued. 
When we reached the earthworks before mentioned, 
we made a stand and faced the enemy. Great confusion 
and infernal butchery followed. Bayonets clashed 
against bayonets; the enemy brought out machine-guns 
and poured shot upon us pell-mell ; the men on both sides 
fell like grass. But I cannot give you a detailed account 
of the scene, because I was then in a dazed condition. I 
only remember that I was brandishing my sword in fury. 
I also felt myself occasionally cutting down the enemy. 
I remember a confused fight of white blade against white 
blade, the rain and hail of shell, a desperate fight here 
and a confused scuffle there. At last I grew so hoarse that 
I could not shout any more. Suddenly my sword broke 
with a clash, my left arm was pierced. I fell, and before 
I could rise a shell came and shattered my right leg. 
I gathered all my strength and tried to stand up, but I 
felt as if I were crumbling and fell to the ground per- 
fectly powerless. A soldier who saw me fall cried, 
"Lieutenant Sakurai, let us die together." 

I embraced him with my left arm and, gnashing my 
teeth with regret and sorrow, I could only watch the 
hand-to-hand fight going on about me. My mind worked 
like that of a madman, but my body would not move an 
inch. 



THE SIEGE OF ADRIANOPLE 

[1912] 

BY PHILIP GIBBS 

[In February, 191 2, Bulgaria, Servia, Greece, and Monte- 
negro formed an alliance for the purpose of wresting from 
Turkey her European territory. War began in October. 
The Turks, fatally handicapped by the inefficiency and dis- 
organization of their commissariat, were steadily driven 
back by the invading armies, and Scutari and Adrianople, 
their most important cities in Europe, were besieged. 

The Editor.] 

So the siege went on, tedious and interminable, and as 
often as possible I went out to the hills, dodging the vigi- 
lant officers, who had a quick eye for the red brassard of 
a correspondent, and riding or walking as far as possible 
from the main road until I had reached the last hill 
which looked down upon the city. 

From afar the turrets and roofs and domes and mina- 
rets of Adrianople appeared like a mirage through a haze 
of sunshine and a thin veil of mist. The sky was very 
clear above it. Only a few fleecy clouds rested above the 
horizon. But suddenly, as I watched one day, a new 
cloud appeared like a great ball of snow, which unfolded 
and spread out in curly feathers, and then, after a few 
moments, disappeared. It was the bursting of a great 
shell, and the report of it came with a crash of thunder 
which seemed to shake the hills. Two, three, four shells 
burst together like bubbles, and then there followed long, 

393 



THE BOYS' BOOK OF BATTLES 

low rolls of thunderous sound like great drums beating 
a tattoo. The noise had a pecuHar rhythm, Uke the Morse 
code, with long stroke and short, signaUng death. It 
was made by the Bulgarian batteries on the hill forts, 
and it was answered by the Turkish batteries from neigh- 
boring hills. Presently, as the wreaths of smoke from 
the guns faded into tlie atmosphere, I saw that tall, 
straight columns of smoke were rising from the city of 
Adrianople and did not die down. They rose steadily and 
spread out at the top, and flung great wisps of black 
murkiness across the sky. It was the smoke of buildings 
set on fire by the shells. Other towers of black smoke 
rose from valleys which dipped between hills. The Turk- 
ish shells, far-flung from their fortifications, crashed 
into little villages once under Turkish rule and now 
abandoned by all inhabitants. Soon there would be 
nothing left of them but blackened stumps and heaps 
of ash. 

As I stood watching one day I saw two scenes in this 
grim drama which made my pulses beat with a great ex- 
citement. A great bird flew across the sky towards the 
city, and as it flew it sang a droning song like the buzz- 
ing of an enormous bee. It was a monoplane, flown by a 
Bulgarian aviator, who had volunteered to reconnoiter 
the Turkish defenses. It disappeared swiftly into the 
smoke-wrack, and for some time I Hstened intently to a 
furious fusillade which seemed to meet this winged spy. 
After half an hour the aeroplane came back, flying 
swiftly away from the shot and shell which pursued it 
from the low-lying hills. Its wings were pierced, so that 
one could see the sky through them, but it flew steadily 
from the chase of death, and I heard its rhythmic heart- 

394 



THE SIEGE OF ADRIANOPLE 

beat overhead. Its escape was certain now. It had 
mocked at the pursuit of the shells, and the loud beat 
of its engine above me was a song of triumph. I watched 
it disappear again — to safety. So it seemed; but death 
has many ways of capture, and when I came back to 
Mustafa Pasha that day I heard that the unfortunate 
aviator, after his escape from the guns, had fallen from 
a great height within sight of home, and that the hero's 
body lay smashed to pieces in the wreckage of his 
machine. 

Then on another day I saw another drama in the air. 
While my eyes watched the smoke-clouds from the siege- 
guns something twinkled and glittered to the left of the 
four tall minarets of the great mosque of Adrianople. It 
was the smooth silk of an airship which caught the rays 
of the sun ; this cigar-shaped craft rose slowly and stead- 
ily to a fair height, though I think it was tethered at one 
end. It rose above peaceful ground into a great tran- 
quillity, which lasted about ten minutes. Then suddenly 
there was a terrific clap of thunder and a shell burst to 
the left of the airship. I gave a great cry. It seemed to 
me that the frail craft had burst and disappeared into 
nothingness. But a few seconds later, when the smoke 
was wafted away, I saw the airship still poised steadily 
above the earth, untouched by that death machine. A 
second shell was flung skywards, far to the right; and for 
an hour I watched shells rise continually round that air- 
ship, trying to tear it down from its high observation, 
but never striking it. I do not know the names of the 
men who piloted that ship, but, whoever they were, they 
may boast of a courage which kept them at their post in 
the sky amid that storm of shells. 

395 



THE BOYS' BOOK OF BATTLES 

It was at night that the bombardment of Adrianople 
reached the heights of a most infernal beauty. Then the 
sky quivered with flashes of light, and tongues of flame 
leaped out from the hillsides, and fire-balls danced be- 
tween the stars. As I lay in bed after a day on the hills 
the noise of the bombardment chased sleep away, and 
every great gun shook the old Turkish farmhouse in 
which I lived as though heavy iron bedsteads were being 
dumped down upon the roof. Then there came a con- 
tinued roll of great artillery. It was so loud and seemed 
so close that for a moment the wild idea came to me that 
the Turks had smashed their way out of the besieged 
city and that there was fighting in Mustafa Pasha. I 
rose and dressed hastily, lighted a lantern, and went out 
into the darkness. All around me was the barking and 
howling of dogs, hundreds of them, baying back an an- 
swer to the guns. I stumbled through quagmires of mud 
and pools of water until I came to the bridge of Mustafa 
overlooking the wide sweep of the Maritza. 

I passed on through the village, and past many lines 
of sentries and men encamped round fires outside the 
mosques. Then in the shadow of a doorway I stood still 
and watched the sky, upon which was written the signs 
of death still seeking victims, and destruction away in 
the city below the hills. There was no moon, but the sky 
was thickly strewn with stars, and it seemed as though 
some flight of fallen angels were raging in the heavens. 
I saw a great shell burst below Orion's belt, and the point- 
ers of the Great Bear were cut across by a sword of flame. 
The Milky Way throbbed with intermittent flashes like 
sheet lightning, and the pathway of the stars was illu- 
mined by the ruddy glare of burning houses and smoul- 

396 



THE SIEGE OF ADRIANOPLE 

dering villages. I had an irresistible desire to get closer 
to all this hellish beauty, to walk far across the hills to a 
place of vantage from which I had seen the bombard- 
ment by day. But when I raised my lantern and walked 
forward I was arrested by a Bulgarian officer — and this 
was the end of my night's vigil. 

As all the world knows now, the city of Adrianople did 
not fall before the armistice arranged between the allies 
and Turkey; and its garrison, which had maintained 
such an heroic defense, deserved the fullest honors. 



A MEMORABLE RETREAT 

FROM THE OFFICIAL REPORT ON THE WITHDRAWAL OF 

THE BRITISH ARMY FROM THE BELGIAN BORDER 

TOWARD PARIS 

[1914] 

BY GENERAL SIR JOHN FRENCH 
COMMANDER-IN-CHIEF OF THE BRITISH FORCES 

[The retreat of the British army under Sir John French be- 
fore the invading Germans will take its place in history as 
a masterpiece of strategy. Practically unsupported by his 
French allies, relentlessly pursued by an overwhelming 
force of Germans who allowed their retreating enemies no 
rest by day or night, the British general succeeded in bring- 
ing off his army virtually intact. The comment of Earl 
Kitchener, Secretary of State for War, on the following re- 
port, was that Sir John French had omitted only one aspect 
of the situation, "the consummate skill and calm courage 
of the commander himself." The Editor.] 

On Sunday, the 23d [of August], reports began to come 
in to the effect that the enemy was commencing an at- 
tack on the Mons line, apparently in some strength, but 
that the right of the position from Mons was being par- 
ticularly threatened. The commander of the First Corps 
had pushed his flank back to some high ground south of 
Bray, and the Fifth Cavalry evacuated Binche, moving 
slightly south. The enemy thereupon occupied Binche. 
The right of the third division under General Ham- 
ilton was at Mons, which formed a somewhat dangerous 
salient, and I directed the commander of the second 

398 



A MEMORABLE RETREAT 

corps if threatened seriously to draw back the center 
behind Mons. This was done before dark. In the mean 
time about five in the afternoon I received a most un- 
expected message from General Joffre by telegraph tell- 
ing me that at least three German corps were moving 
on my position in front and that a second corps was 
engaged in a turning movement from the direction of 
Tournai. He also informed me that the two reserve 
French divisions and the Fifth French Army Corps on 
my right were retiring, the Germans having on the pre- 
vious day gained possession of the passage of the Sambre 
between Charleroi and Namur. 

In view of the possibility of my being driven from 
the Mons position, I had previously ordered a position 
in the rear to be reconnoitered. This position rested on 
the fortress of Maubeuge on the right and extended 
west to Jenlain, southeast of Valenciennes, on the left. 
The position was reported difficult to hold because 
standing crops and buildings made the siting of trenches 
very difficult and limited the fire in many important 
locaHties. It nevertheless afforded a few good artillery 
positions. 

When the news of the retirement of the French and 
the heavy German force threatening on my front reached 
me, I endeavored to confirm it by aeroplane reconnois- 
sance, and as a result of this I determined to effect a 
retirement to the Maubeuge position at daybreak on the 
24th. 

A certain amount of fighting continued along the 
whole line throughout the night, and at daybreak on 
the 24th the Second Division from the neighborhood of 
Harmignias made a powerful demonstration as if to 

399 



THE BOYS' BOOK OF BATTLES 

retake Binche. This was supported by the artillery of 
both the First and the Second Division while the First 
Division took up a supporting position in the neighbor- 
hood of Peissant. Under cover of this demonstration 
the Second Corps retired on the line of Dour, Quaruble, 
and Frameries. The Third Division on the right of the 
corps suffered considerable loss in this operation from 
the enemy, who had retaken Mons. The Second Corps 
halted on this line, where they entrenched themselves, 
enabling Sir Douglas Haig, with the First Corps, grad- 
ually to withdraw to the new position, and he effected 
this without much further loss, reaching the line from 
Bavay to Maubeuge about seven in the evening. 

Towards midnight the enemy appeared to be direct- 
ing his principal effort against our left. I had previ- 
ously ordered General Allenby with the cavalry to act 
vigorously in advance of my left front and endeavor 
to take the pressure off. About 7.30 in the morning 
General Allenby received a message from Sir Charles 
Fergusson, commanding the Fifth Division, saying he 
was very hard pressed and in urgent need of support. 
On receipt of this message General Allenby drew in 
his cavalry and endeavored to bring direct support to 
the Fifth Division. 

During the course of this operation. General de Lisle 
of the Second Cavalry Brigade thought he saw a good 
opportunity to paralyze the further advance of the 
enemy's infantry by making a mounted attack on his 
flank. He formed up and advanced for this purpose, 
but was held up by wire about five hundred yards from 
his objective and the Ninth Lancers and the Eighteenth 
Hussars suft'ered severely in the retirement of the brigade. 

400 



A MEMORABLE RETREAT 

The Nineteenth Infantry Brigade, which had been 
guarding the line of communications, was brought by 
rail to Valenciennes on the 2 2d and 23d. On the morn- 
ing of the 24th they were moved out to a position south 
of Quaruble to support the left flank of the Second 
Corps. With the assistance of cavalry Sir Horace Smith- 
Dorrien was enabled to effect his retreat to a new posi- 
tion, although having two corps of the enemy on his 
front and one threatening his flank. He suffered great 
loss in doing so. 

At nightfall a position was occupied by the Second 
Corps to the west of Bavay, the First Corps to the right. 
The right was protected by the fortress of Maubeuge, 
the left by the Nineteenth Brigade in position between 
Jenlain and Bray, and cavalry on the outer flank. 

The French were still retiring, and I had no sup- 
port except such as was afforded by the fortresses of 
Maubeuge, and determined efforts of the enemy to get 
around my flank assured me that it was his intention to 
hem me against that place and surround me. I felt that 
not a moment must be lost in retiring to another posi- 
tion. I had every reason to believe that the enemy's 
forces were somewhat exhausted, and I knew that they 
had suffered heavy losses. I hoped, therefore, that his 
pursuit would not be too vigorous to prevent me effect- 
ing my object. The operation, however, was full of 
danger and difficulty, not only owing to the very supe- 
rior forces in my front, but also to the exhaustion of 
the troops. 

The retirement was recommenced in the early morn- 
ing of the 25 th to a position in the neighborhood of Le 
Cateau, and the rear guard were ordered to be clear of 

401 



THE BOYS' BOOK OF BATTLES 

Maubeuge and Bavay by 5.30 a.m. Two cavalry brig- 
ades, with the divisional cavalry of the Second Corps, 
covered the movement of the Second Corps, and the 
remainder of the cavalry division, with the Nineteenth 
Brigade, the whole under command of General Allenby, 
covered the west flank. 

The Fourth Division commenced its detrainment at 
Le Cateau on Sunday, the 23d, and by the morning of 
the 25 th eleven battalions and a brigade of artillery, 
with the divisional staff, were available for service. I 
ordered General Snow to move out to take up a position 
with his right south of Solesmes, his left resting on the 
Cambrai — Le Cateau road south of La Chapris. In this 
position the division rendered great help to the effective 
retirement of the Second and First Corps to new posi- 
tions. 

Although the troops had been ordered to occupy the 
Cambrai-Le Cateau-Landrecies position, and ground 
had, during the 25th, been partially prepared and in- 
trenched, I had grave doubts — owing to information 
I had received as to the accumulating strength of the 
enemy against me — as to the wisdom of standing there 
to fight. 

Having regard to the continued retirement of the 
French on my right, my exposed left flank, the tendency 
of the enemy's western corps to envelop me and, more 
than all, the exhausted condition of the troops, I deter- 
mined to make a great effort to continue the retreat till 
I could put some substantial obstacle, such as the 
Somme or the Oise, between my troops and the enemy 
and afford the former some opportunity for rest and 
reorganization. 

402 



A MEMORABLE RETREAT 

Orders were, therefore, sent to the corps command- 
ers to continue their retreat as soon as they possibly 
could toward the general line of Vermand, Saint-Quentin, 
and Ribemont, and the cavalry under General Allenby 
were ordered to cover the retirement. Throughout the 
25th and far into the evening the First Corps contin- 
ued to march on Landrecies, following the road along 
the eastern border of the forest of Mormal, and arrived 
at Landrecies about ten o'clock. I had intended that 
the corps should come farther west so as to fill up the 
gap between Le Cateau and Landrecies, but the men 
were exhausted and could not get farther in without a 
rest. 

The enemy, however, would not allow them this 
rest, and about 9.30 that evening the report was re- 
ceived that the Fourth Guards Brigade in Landrecies 
was heavily attacked by troops of the Ninth German 
Army Corps, who were coming through the forest to 
the north of the town. This brigade fought most gal- 
lantly and caused the enemy to suffer a tremendous loss 
in issuing from the forest into the narrow streets of 
the town. This loss has been estimated from reliable 
sources at between seven hundred and one thousand. 

At the same time information reached me from Sir 
Douglas Haig that his First Division was also heavily 
engaged south and east of Marilles. I sent urgent mes- 
sages to the commander of two French reserve divisions 
on my right to come up to the assistance of the First 
Corps, which they eventually did. Partly owing to this 
assistance but mainly to the skillful manner in which 
Sir Douglas Haig extricated his corps from an excep- 
tionally diflQcult position in the darkness of night, they 

403 



THE BOYS' BOOK OF BATTLES 

were able to resume their march towards Wassigny and 
Guise. By about six in the afternoon, the Second Corps 
had got into position with their right on Le Cateau 
and their left in the neighborhood of Caudry, and the 
line of defense was continued thence by the Fourth 
Division toward Seranvillers. 

During the fighting on the 24th and 25th the cav- 
alry became a good deal scattered, but by early morning 
on the 26th General Allenby had succeeded in concen- 
trating two brigades to the south of Cambrai. The 
Fourth Division was placed under the orders of the 
general ofiicer commanding the Second Army Corps. 

On the 24th the French cavalry corps, consisting 
of three divisions under General Sordet, had been in 
billets north of Avesnes. On my way back from Bavay, 
which was my poste de commandemente during the 
fighting of the 23d and the 24th, I visited General Sordet 
and earnestly requested his cooperation and support. 
He promised to obtain sanction from his army com- 
mander to act on my left flank, but said that his horses 
were too tired to move before the next day. Although 
he rendered me valuable assistance later on in the course 
of the retirement, he was unable for the reasons given 
to afford me any support on the most critical day of all, 
namely the 26th. 

At daybreak it became apparent that the enemy 
was throwing the bulk of his strength against the left 
of the position occupied by the Second Corps and the 
Fourth Division. At this time the guns of four German 
army corps were in position against them, and Sir Hor- 
ace Smith-Dorrien reported to me that he judged it 
impossible to continue his retirement at daybreak, as 

404 



A MEMORABLE RETREAT 

ordered, in the face of such an attack. I sent him orders 
to use his utmost endeavors to break off the action and 
retire at the earliest possible moment, as it was im- 
possible for me to send him support, the First Corps 
being at the moment incapable of movement. 

The French cavalry corps under General Sordet was 
coming up on our left rear early in the morning, and 
I sent him an urgent message to do his utmost to 
come up and support the retirement of my left flank, 
but owing to the fatigue of his horses he found himself 
unable to intervene in any way. 

There had been no time to intrench the position 
properly, but the troops showed a magnificent front 
to the terrible fire which confronted them. The artil- 
lery, although outmatched by at least four to one, 
made a splendid fight and inflicted heavy losses on their 
opponents. 

At length it became apparent that if complete an- 
nihilation was to be avoided, retirement must be at- 
tempted, and the order was given to commence it about 
3.30 in the afternoon. The movement was covered with 
most devoted intrepidity and determination by the 
artillery, which had itself suffered heavily, and the fine 
work done by the cavalry in the further retreat from 
the position assisted materially the final completion 
of this most difficult and dangerous operation. Fortu- 
nately the enemy had himself suffered too heavily to 
engage in an energetic pursuit. 

I cannot close the brief account of this glorious stand 
of the British troops without putting on record my deep 
appreciation of the valuable services rendered by Sir 
Horace Smith-Dorrien. I say without hesitation that 

405 



THE BOYS' BOOK OF BATTLES 

the saving of the left wing of the army under my com- 
mand on the morning of the 26th could never have been 
accomplished unless a commander of rare and unusual 
coolness, intrepidity and determination had been pres- 
ent to personally conduct the operations. 

The retreat was continued far into the night of the 
26th and through the 27th and the 28th, on which date 
the troops halted on the line from Noyon, Chauny and 
La Fere, having then thrown off the weight of the ene- 
my's pursuit. 

On the 27th and the 28th I was much indebted to 
General Sordet and the French cavalry division which 
he commands for materially assisting my retirement and 
successfully driving back some of the enemy on Cam- 
brai. General d'Amade also, with the Sixty-first and 
Sixty-second reserve divisions, moved down from the 
neighborhood of Arras on the enemy's right flank and 
took much pressure off the rear of the British forces. 

This closed the period covering the heavy fighting 
which commenced at Mons on Sunday afternoon, August 
23, and which really constituted a four days' battle. 
At this point, therefore, I propose to close the present 
dispatch. 

I deeply deplore the very serious losses which the 
British forces suffered in this great battle, but they were 
inevitable in view of the fact that the British army — 
only a few days after concentration by rail — was 
called upon to withstand the vigorous attack of five 
German army corps. 



THE SOLDIERS' DREAM 



FIGHTING IN MID-AIR 

AN INCIDENT OF I914 
BY SERGEANT WERNER OF THE GERMAN AVIATION CORPS 

I HAD received orders to locate the English forces and 
to determine their exact battle lines and those of their 
French supports. Accompanied by Lieutenant von 
Heidsen, who was detailed as expert observer, I went up 
in my big monoplane and headed directly south in the 
general direction of Paris, although on this trip we did not 
go across the city. Previously, on Sunday, we flew across 
Paris and dropped three bombs. One failed to explode. 
Another dropped on the roof of a house and set fire to 
it, and the third fell in a boulevard and made a big hole. 
But we flew back to our lines that time without being 
molested and we were so high the rifle fire did not reach 
us. 

On this trip to locate the enemy we flew directly 
south from Mons, following a broad and plainly marked 
road. En route we passed over the edge of a magnifi- 
cent forest, in which more than 40,000 inhabitants of 
the surrounding country had taken refuge. After fly- 
ing for more than an hour we passed directly over the 
English headquarters and I was able to locate the posi- 
tions of the commander-in-chief and his staff. We accu- 
rately mapped this position and then swept across the 
French position, paying especial attention to the loca- 
tions of their artillery, much of which was masked in 
pieces of woods and behind buildings and hedges. 

407 



THE BOYS' BOOK OF BATTLES 

Lieutenant von Heidsen made rough sketches of 
everything. I was intently watching the country when 
suddenly the lieutenant pressed my arm. He pointed 
upward. At that time we were nearly five thousand 
feet in the air. I looked in the direction in which he 
was pointing and there, fully one thousand feet higher 
than we were, and coming at full speed directly toward 
us, was a big Bristol biplane. 

It was evident from the start that he was far speedier 
than we were. I tried to climb upward, realizing that 
when he got over me he would drop a bomb and we 
would be blown to pieces. But the effort was vain. The 
Bristol held me for speed. I could not get on a level with 
him. Soon the Bristol was directly over our heads. My 
God, man! I was not afraid, but this was a moment of 
suspense that took years of my Ufe. I was sure the bomb 
was coming. 

The Bristol had reduced her speed until she was 
keeping pace with us. She was also slowly coming down. 
Swooping lower and lower, the Bristol came. At last 
I knew how a bird feels when an eagle or a hawk is 
swooping down on it. I thought every minute was to be 
our last. I was certain that what the British were try- 
ing to do was to get so close that their bomb could not 
miss. My nerves were entirely unstrung and it was all 
that I could do to keep my monoplane on an even keel. 

Suddenly I saw a flash alongside of me. For a mo- 
ment I thought that the expected bomb had struck. 
Then I realized that the lieutenant was shooting with 
his automatic pistol. The Englishmen had their pro- 
peller in front and so they could not shoot from that 
position. I was now certain they carried no bombs, as 

408 



FIGHTING IN MID-AIR 

they veered off some five hundred feet to the side at 
the same time keeping one hundred and fifty above us. 

All this time we were headed northward again 
toward the German lines. The plunging of the aero- 
planes made accurate shooting difficult, although one 
shot struck my plane. It was very evident that the 
Englishman was shooting to disable our motor, and we 
were doing the same thing on our part. The noise of the 
discharge of the automatics was drowned in the whirr 
of our propeller. 

There was a feeling of utter helplessness so far as 
we were concerned. Our machine was far slower and 
much more unwieldy than theirs. I kept figuring on 
when the next bullet would strike, as with their greater 
speed they seemed certain finally to get us. While this 
thought was passing through my mind the lieutenant 
again touched me and pointed thousands of feet higher. 

There, coming at tremendous speed, was a small 
Bleriot monoplane. It looked for all the world like an 
eagle coming to join the attack. I felt certain now 
that the end was in sight, as all of the French aviators 
we have captured up to the present have carried bombs, 
and the speed of the newcomer — it was far greater 
than the Bristol — gave him still more of an advantage. 

But the Bleriot also failed to have bombs and was 
forced to depend on pistols. Swooping up and down, 
encircling us and all the time firing at us, the Bleriot 
kept on. Minutes seemed like hours to me. It was cer- 
tain there could be only one end to this unequal fight, 
although the lieutenant kept firing in return as calmly 
as at the rifle range. 

Suddenly, however, German troops appeared below 
409 



THE BOYS' BOOK OF BATTLES 

us. They began firing at the enemy, and the Bleriot and 
the Bristol, finally exhausting their ammunition, sailed 
off to the south unharmed. We then landed with our 
reportS; which were especially valuable because of the 
location of the French artillery. However, I would not 
want to go through such an experience again.' 



THE END 



CAMBRIDGE . MASSACHUSETTS 
U - S . A 



